Program Lovely
by xuri
Summary: 5 years later, they are reunited for an unusual mission. Beyond the joy, puzzles, and reawakened sparks, it seems they have no idea of the dangers and sorrows that lie ahead of them. R x I
1. Startup

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xuri:

Heyy guys! It's been a while, huh? ;3 Anyway, as promised, here's Program Lovely, my R x I fic! The chapters seem to be taking a while because I've put a lot of thought into the plot, so bear with me. And if you're bored and haven't already, check out my OC fic, Blend. It's deliciously long and detailed. xD On with the love!

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter one**;_Startup_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in. _

* * *

It had been five years.

Five years since the Mew Project. Five years since he'd met Ichigo and the others. Five years since Cafe Mew Mew had boomed with business, five years since the aliens left the Earth in peace, and five years since he had last seen any of _them_.

As far as Shirogane Ryou was concerned, it had been five years since the life he knew came to a grinding halt.

Now instead of spending time searching for chimera anima, or forming plans with the group, or even washing dishes in the kitchen of Cafe Mew Mew, he would close his door, lay on his bed,and stare at the ceiling. He had to eat, of course. And drink. Every now and then, he might allow himself out of the dormant pink building to run in the dark as if he were running from the very thing he feared most - himself. Just himself. Not the infamous Shirogane Ryou, creator of the Mew Project; or Ryou, co-owner of Cafe Mew Mew; even Shirogane, the blonde who enjoyed little more than to torment a certain strawberry-haired girl on a daily basis. Without any of _them_ here with him, he was just himself, and he hated it. If he ran fast enough, sometimes, it felt as if he were escaping that, able to live a few more days in blissful ignorance.

Ironic that the very person he tried to escape was the only one he ever saw anymore.

Wallowing in his own misery - or lack thereof, since he was sure he was numb to pretty much everything nowadays - seemed to eliminate his sense of time, and he could barely tell whether it was September or March anymore. But he knew. He _knew _it had been five years, he didn't even have to think about it. Five years since his world came and went, all in a flash. Simple as that.

Now Cafe Mew Mew, a place that had once been thriving with life, with customers, with _people,_ was empty, as if no one had ever been there. Or no one still was. Ryou wasn't sure whether or not he counted anymore. When the 'leak' had occured and everyone had to leave, Keiichiro had stuck around - for a while. But with _them _seemed to leave the flare and spark that was the Cafe, and without that, there were no customers to serve anymore. The older man moved on to bigger and better things, popping in every now and then to say 'hi'.

But Ryou just stayed right where he was.

He had been asleep, at the time. He slept a lot, since it became an easy way to pass the time that seemed to drag by like a cat with broken legs. So, in his drowsy state, he hadn't heard the knock... at first. When the blonde was roused by a second knock at the door, he faintly suspected it was Keiichiro coming by to offer false smiles and support that he didn't want, and he didn't bother moving. Before the boy could fall back asleep, though, there was some loud clatter outside; what sounded like heaving and carefully placing some heavy object, only to have it accidentally knock against the walls and create more of a racket.

And, before he had the chance to close his eyes, he wondered what it was.

A delivery?

It had been _five years _since anyone had delivered _anything._ What could it have possibly been? Sure, electric and water bills were dropped off every so often, but those were slips of paper. This sounded like something solid. Something _big_. Regardless of his curiousity, Ryou did nothing for a long, long time. When it fell silent, he wondered if he'd made the whole thing up in his head. But after about ten minutes, he finally dragged himself upright and stiffly walked to the front, prepared to see nothing on the porch at all.

But there _had _been something.

And now, he sat at one of the dusty cafe tables, door still open, a letter in his hands. The once tightly sealed envelope was scattered on the floor, touching the large and unusually shaped box he had dragged inside with much difficulty. Leaning back in the chair, Ryou got hold of his bearings and began to read:

_To Mr. Shirogane Ryou;_

_It is not by protocol that we contact a person such as yourself. Under the circumstances, however, officials have deemed it necessary to take action against recent occuring events, and after much deliberation, it has been decided that few are as suited for the job as the founder of what has been referred to as the 'Mew Project'._

_Top secret government activity has been disclosed in this letter; we ask that these words are read only by eyes you can verify as trustworthy._

_3 years ago, a project was put underway by top-ranking government workers to create a machine following the principles of the 'Mew Project'. After many months a program was successfully created and adapted for military usage - the resulting tool was labelled __**M**__achine __**I**__ntellect equipped w/ __**Z**__eta program __**U**__tility and __**K**__inetic __**I**__ntelligence, henceforth referred to as 'MIZUKI'. _

_MIZUKI was intended for use as a military weapon; however, even with all the work put into the program, officials were unable to find adequet security for its state-of-the-art technological programming, and were concerned of this information being breached in case of invasion and capture. As a result, the programming has not yet been accessed, though it had been decided MIZUKI as a whole was of too much value to dispose of. _

_This is where we put forth a request. As the founder and creator of the 'Mew Project', there is no doubt you are more familiar with the capabilities of such a machine than we, and would be more suited to protecting and understanding the value of such a project. Until further notice, we are placing MIZUKI in your care and under your surveillance. There is next to no set-up or mantainence required, so there is little for you to do other than ensure the program's utmost safety. _

_We are entrusting this to you._

_Best Regards,_

_Misohino Takako_

_Head of Lab-57 Security_

His blue eyes lingered on the last few words, neatly printed in ink, justified importantly on a crisp piece of paper, before Ryou lifted his gaze to the package sitting infront of him.

It had to be five or six feet in length. The box raised only two up off the floor, and the cardboard was very strictly labelled with arrows and warnings, instructing the carrier to keep this side up, alert them of fragile contents, warn to keep the thing level at all times. After a moment of thought, he realized it was about the size of a person laying down... but what kind of thing took on that shape? A _coffin_?

"So..." Setting the letter tentatively aside, Ryou's eyes fixed on the box as he slid off the chair and knelt down, running his fingers carefully along the packaging.

"...what's supposed to be in this thing?"

* * *

_It's been five years, huh?..._

There had to have been more interesting things she could've come up with. Some of the interesting souveneir shops she'd seen while waiting in the airport, maybe; or the kind of bread that had been used for a delicious sandwich she'd ordered for her lunch. Anything but this. Ichigo was almost disgusted with herself, having the opportunity to stare out an airborne window at the gorgeous Italian scenery and only be able to think of Japan.

Deep down, though, she knew she had missed it. More than just that - she missed the _people._ Masaya had been with her for the first year, of course, as well as her own parents. But Lettuce, Mint, Pudding and Zakuro... even Keiichiro and Ryou. Every now and then, even when she was sightseeing or shopping or struggling with the language, the girl would stop to reflect, wonder how they were all doing, where their lives had lead them...

Sighing, Ichigo leaned back in her seat, staring at the dull roof of the airplane and the various compartments scattered there. Vaguely, she could remember the event five years ago, the very day... it had just been weeks after Kishu and the others had left, and they were cleaning up any remaining Chimera Anima, preforming a more relaxing version of their usual work. But someone had, without their knowledge, witnessed the transformations... and before any of the girls caught whiff of it, it had flared across the media like wildfire. Three straight days of panic ensued... Ichigo remembered, there had been reporters everywhere, cameras everywhere, questions everywhere. It was dizzying. Almost terrifying.

By the third day, Ryou had recognized his efforts to restrain the media as useless. "You're leaving," he'd announced once he had them alone, doors barred against various reporters, "All of you. For you and your family's protection. We'll cover any expense for you to do so, but staying here is _not_ an option. This rush of paparazzi is only the beginning; your everyday routine is at risk as much as your lives."

And that was that. She'd gone with Masaya and their families to Italy; Mint, to France; Lettuce, to Canada; Pudding to China, and Zakuro to New York. They'd promised to send letters, but it had been... _difficult_. As a result, Ichigo hadn't been able to keep in touch with a single one of them, and had no idea how anyone was faring.

Not to say she had been _lonely_. Ichigo was surrounded by people she cared about, all the time. It was just... well, she'd never gotten used to it. Japan had been her home. And even though she'd met new friends, learned new things, and built a new life for herself, she was, to an extent, glad to be going back.

But was it safe?

Lights and faces flashed in her mind's eye and she groaned, closing her eyes to clear her head before she looked back down at the letter in her lap. Neatly opened, already read several times, nothing sentimental or important about it.

Well. _Too_ important.

_'Come immediately_,' the plain piece of paper had read, scrawled in Shirogane Ryou's sloppy writing, '_I can't enclose anything else. A plane ticket to Tokyo has been cleared in your name; please arrive as soon as possible.'_ And that was it. The tone was urgent, but Ichigo was puzzled. Immediately? What was this about? It hadn't mentioned a thing about the other girls, or anything really, so she didn't know whether or not she was the only one coming...

Had something involving the aliens happened?

Or was Ryou just bored and looking for some way to throw his money around?

Grimacing at the thought, Ichigo made sure to think nasty messages to the boy she hadn't seen in five long years, pretending she'd rather not see him at all. But that had been her life, and he was a part of it. Even if he hadn't been her _favourite_ person in the world... well, he had been there. And that counted for a lot more than she realized.

She turned her head to look out the window again, seeing only clouds and greyness out the pane. It was almost a hypnotic sight, and she could barely stay focused without her eyelids slowly drooping. _Must be more tired than I thought_, she mused drowsily, yawning cattishly.

"Shirogane had better..." Ichigo murmured quietly, to no one but herself as her forehead pressed against the cool window, "...pay for my return flight."

* * *

And with that, she drifted off and fell asleep to the sounds of clattering food carts and the monotone chatter of other passengers.

Beyond being poked to consciousness by a flight attendant, and shuffled along by impatient customers, and practically forced to take her luggage from the pick-up, Ichigo was still on sleepy-sleepy mode. She faintly suspected she'd been drugged, though with further thought, realized she hadn't exactly eaten or drank anything on the plane. Gassed, maybe?

While contemplating that confusing thought, Ichigo yawned cattishly, dragging her three heavy suitcases behind her. Crowds streamed out of the way, as if they themselves realized how much of a hazard the redhead could be to them if they didn't _move, pronto_. Ichigo didn't really notice. Once the whole issue of drugged-or-gassed escaped her attention, it focused on something much more important.

"Who's meeting me here, anyways?"

Stuck almost in mid-sentence, she froze, and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Well, who else? Ryou was coming to pick her up, wasn't he? That was to be expected. He'd sent the letter, after all.

So... why was she blushing?

"I'm_ not_!" She cried loudly, much to the surprise and discomfort of strangers. Ichigo shook her head vigorously and clenched a fist in determination. "It's just stuffy in here, that's all! Or maybe I have a fever. Yeah, that's it, that would explain why I fell asleep!"

"You fell asleep because you have the attention span of a flea."

"_Ehh_? I do--" Whirling around to confront the insult, Ichigo was abruptly struck dumb, and nearly speechless. "--not." Her voice died down and her eyes widened, and the girl honestly had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things. To make sure she wasn't imagining.

Mint sighed, hands on her hips, shaking her head lightly in frustration. "Then why did you drop one of your bags over there?" She lifted a dainty finger to point.

The message was lost on Ichigo. "Y-you..." Finding words had never been her strong suit, but she was having much more trouble than usual, "...you guys! You're all here!"

And, just as the catgirl had said, there they all were. Lettuce, Zakuro, Pudding, and Mint, all in one group, looking at her with smiles and warm eyes. The expressions she recognized from all those years ago. Those four simple figures she so cherished and held dear to her, memories that could never quite replace the real thing. They had changed, of course. So had she. But they were them.

_And they were all here._

Lettuce smiled timidly, strands of neatly-layered green hair falling over her eyes. "It's nice to see you again, Ichigo-san."

That was it. She couldn't hold back any longer. Ichigo could stutter and gape and stare all she wanted, but that wasn't getting her anywhere. The only real way to show how happy she was was to --

"Uwahh!" Ichigo sprung forward and threw her arms around the group, pulling them into an awkward yet binding group hug, _'nyaa'_ing with joy. "You're all here! _You're all here!_ I have so much to tell you! I've missed you sooo much!"

"Pudding's glad to see Ichigo-oneechan too, na no da!" Pudding squealed, fighting her way to the top so she could latch two arms around the ecstatic catgirl's neck. She'd gotten a bit taller, Ichigo noticed. Not much, though. She was still the same old Pudding, through and through.

"Ichigo," Mint, though unable to conceal the smile on her face, allowed her eye to twitch in aggrivation, "Honestly, go pick up your bag before some unforunate child trips over --"

"We're all happy to see you, but will you let go now? We should make our way to the entrance," Zakuro spoke in her usual cool and comfortable tone, attempting to gently ease herself from the glomp. Ichigo relinquished her hold, though reluctantly, and took a few steps back to look at them again, grinning sheepishly.

"You really are all..." A curious expression suddenly dawned on her face, and, frowning, Ichigo tilted her head to the side. "Wait, why _are _you guys here? You're supposed to be in Canada," She pointed at Lettuce, "You're supposed to be in New York," At Zakuro, then at Mint, "And you're supposed to - "

"Just like _you're_ supposed to be in Italy, Ichigo." Calmly, the violet-haired model held up a piece of paper, "But as of today at 5:30, we're all supposed to be _here_."

Amber eyes fell over the slip and the writing that tainted it. Ichigo recognized the messy style instantly - the words were different, but the message was the same. Ryou's letter.

"He didn't tell me you were all gonna be here, too..." Ichigo mumbled, feeling as if she'd been left in the dark on purpose. No doubt for a certain blonde's cruel amusement. Ooh, he was so going to get it --

"Us either," Lettuce was quick to jump in to his defence, bravely stepping forward with her hands clasped together before her. She was more confident, Ichigo realized right away. There was no shame in her eyes, or blush of embarassment marring her cheeks. "He... I mean, we didn't know, either, Ichigo-san."

"The letters are all pretty vague, themselves," Sighing in faint exasperation, Zakuro turned the letter she'd been holding up toward her so she could read the instructions again, though the usual look of disappoinment crossed her eyes when she wasn't able to figure anything out. "At first, I suspected that maybe this was Ryou's way of getting back in touch... but the tone seems urgent, and he's made it clear matters are confidential."

Pudding's eyes went wide as saucers. "Zakuro-oneechan doesn't think the chimera anima are back, does she, na no da?" There was a hint of childish worry in her tone, causing the big-sister-factor in the rest of the girls to swiftly kick in.

"D-don't worry Pudding," Ichigo said quickly, a smile on her face, "Kishu and the others made peace with us, remember? I'm sure whatever it is, it's not that serious. It's probably just some big joke, knowing Shirogane..." Her cheeks puffed up slightly at the thought, but any negative feelings immediately drifted away. After all, _they_ were all here with her again - it was impossible to be angry or sad. "I can't believe it... I mean, I never expected to see you guys again - or, at least for a long time. I'm so happy you're all here, coming back to Japan without you wouldn't have been the same..."

"What she really means," Mint's haughty voice kicked in as she placed two hands neatly on her hips, lazily narrowing two skeptical eyes in the Strawberry girl's direction, "is that she's _disappointed _we're all here, because she really wanted to spend some alone time with Mister Shirogane Ryou. Right, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's hand gave a twitch and she could feel angry blood rushing to her face, and suddenly she remembered how easily it was to become annoyed at Mint's antics. Yes, she was teasing, and yes, she didn't mean a thing by it, but did she really have to start off a happy-friend-reunion with that attitude? "Please, Mint-san," Lettuce quickly stepped in with a soothing tone, breaking the tension between the two. The redhead's shoulders relaxed again, and she recognized that Mint wouldn't have quite been Mint if she didn't jump at Ichigo whenever the chance so arrived. It was what made the spoiled-little-rich-brat herself.

Just as she was glad to see Mint, she really was glad to see everyone else. For all the standing reasons of friendship, and, well... 'alone time with Mister Shirogane Ryou', as Mint had put it, didn't sound particularily appealing to her. Of course she wanted to see him again too, but not_ alone_. God knows that boy had made enough things awkward between the two of them. She didn't know if she'd be able to stay sane being in the same room with him alone - he had driven her up the wall time and time again all those years ago, and she really didn't want to get into that freakout-stage she'd been in again.

While the other girls talked amongst themselves - catching up, making theories about the letter, commenting on airplane food - Ichigo just stood there in silence, a little smile on her face. They were all the same, and yet they were different. They'd each grown up, but they were still those four awkward girls from Tokyo Mew Mew, all the way. That made her wonder_; have I changed at all? _And she honestly couldn't answer that question. It was so much harder to track those things when it came to yourself.

Her thoughts drifted back to the earlier topic of Ryou, and she grimaced. _But I bet he hasn't changed one bit._

"When is he coming, anyways?" In an impatiently demanding voice, Mint squinted off at one of the nearby clocks, clearly displeased. "It's already been ten minutes. Honestly, leaving five young ladies alone in an airport..." The dark-haired damsel ignored the quick protest of Lettuce, who insisted to no listening ear that 'they weren't really alone', "... it's dangerous. Not to mention rude. That boy hasn't learned any manners at all!"

"Mint-san..."

Ichigo smiled again, and, hearing the airport doors slide quietly open, she turned with absent eyes in that direction. _I bet he'll just leave us here for an hour or two... _Her thoughts floated about randomly, hazily, and she realized she was still tired from the airplane ride. She'd catch up on her sleep tonight, when no one could kick her out of her seat. _...and then when he finally comes, he'll say we read the letter wrong..._

"Jerk," she mumbled, prepared to ramble on more about him, maybe form some kind of rebellion against the snooty blonde while they were waiting. But her voice died down as she realized why her eyes had been fixed on those particular doors - through them walked an all-too-familiar figure, with hair she remembered all-too-well, and an expression that no one else could quite carry around with them so comfortably.

He saw her, and, tilting his head, he smiled.

Ichigo's eyes widened.

"Akasaka-san!"

At the name, everyone else turned to the door, surprised to see the brunette man standing just a few feet away from them, a pleasant smile on his face as always. Before they could so much as exclaim his name is shock as Ichigo had, Keiichiro tipped his head forward, closed his eyes, swept an elegant arm to the side, and bent down into a gentlemanly bow.

"Forgive me for being late," he spoke in his usual soft, velvety tone, making each girl in a 20-foot-radius stand stiff with fluttering hearts. Opening his dark but warm eyes again, he gazed fondly to all of them, "Super Ladies."

"Keiichiro-oniichan!" In a blur of gold, Pudding sprung forth, tackling the ponytailed man in a nearly-violent hug, laughing with delight. The only reason the man wasn't knocked over by the small, but now strong, girl, was due to his high level of composure, and he steadied himself, managing to smile at her before gently placing sturdy hands on her shoulders and setting her down so he could stand once again.

And then, he was swamped.

"Akasaka-san, it's been so long!"

"How's the Cafe been? Did they hire new waitresses after we left?"

"You cut your hair, na no da!"

"You came to pick us up? Hmph, that is_ so _like Shirogane..."

"Why weren't you here earlier?"

Though Keiichiro had suddenly been bombarded with questions, he managed to keep calm, turning only to Zakuro to answer he bluntly-stated question. "I apologize; Ryou intended to come instead, but there were some complications. I would have arrived sooner, had traffic not been so difficult."

Ichigo blinked wide amber eyes. "Complications?"

He only shook his head lightly in response, smile soft as always, "We should not delay your arrival any further. The car is parked just out the door; there should be enough room in the back for each of your bags." The man paused as he turned to open the door for them, glancing back at the 'Super Ladies' meaningfully. "Let's not keep Ryou waiting."

"H-hai!" Lettuce chimed in response, bending down to swiftly retrieve her luggage just as the others were doing. Ichigo's hand closed tightly around the handle of her suitcase as she stared absently in their escort's direction. There was still something strange about the whole situation. _And why are we here, exactly...? _she wanted to ask, but she couldn't seem to do it. If they needed to know, Keiichiro would have told them already. Still...

The group rushed hurriedly past the man, who had an arm pointed where the vehicle was parked. Ichigo followed, though with a dazed expression as she was, once again, lost in her own thought. Mint followed, watching her from the corner of her eye before sighing, and eye twitching in aggrivated frustration. "Ichigo, aren't you forgetting --"

"Huh?" Stopping, she looked down at her free hand, eyes fixed as she created a flashing visual of what should have been in that hand, but wasn't. She jumped suddenly, and whirled around.

"Wah! Where's my bag?"

* * *

Lights, sounds, scenes and shapes all whirled past the windows, streaming together into what could only be described as a... blob. All Ichigo could think was, _at least isn't driving as fast as he normally does._

But it was still an insanely erratic ride. Even Zakuro sat rigid in the passenger's seat, dark eyes flickering around to find something to cling on to if the car suddenly swerved into a ditch.

Even the radio itself seemed to buzz into the silence awkwardly, fading in and out incoherently. _"...reports of several government break-ins...nothing stolen... minimal damage to property and surrounding area... underway, and investigations will continue on until... perpetrators..."_

After a few minutes, though, the girls were used to it, and had their safety devices optimized in case of emergency. Keiichiro sat calmly up in the front, kind brown eyes gazing out at the tar road, hands relaxed on the wheel, foot pressed a little_ too _much on the gas pedal. But at least he wasn't turning into wrong lanes and narrowly escaping deathly collisions like he normally seemed to do - for that, the girls could at least be thankful.

Although, this _did_ prove their suspicions that Ryou's letter signalled an urgent matter.

"I hope you're all comfortable back there," The brunette said in a chipper tone, "Sorry I don't have more room. I suppose if I'll be handling this passenger number more often now, I'll have to upgrade to a roomier model."

Mint uncomfortably shifted beneath Pudding, who was sitting on her lap to compromise the fact four girls had only three seats to fill. "Keiichiro," she voiced for the first time since leaving the airport and becoming used to enduring Keiichiro's shaky driving habits, "You know why we've been called here, don't you? Can you fill in what Ryou didn't?"

Which, all the girls knew, was pretty much everything. They all looked with expecting expressions to the calm but violent driver.

He only smiled. "Ryou will explain it all when you arrive," The man didn't even so much as turn to face them, "He sent the letters, after all. It would only be fair to leave all explanations to the one who knows them best."

The air in the car suddenly became one filled with frustration and confusion - contributed to by all but Keiichiro, of course. Lettuce turned dazed blue eyes out the window again, too polite to inquire further, though her expression clearly wanted more. Mint actually let out a sigh of exasperation, while Pudding just sat contently where she was, head bobbing up and down as if she were tired from an exhausting ride.

On the other hand, all Ichigo could do was stare at the vehicle's floor and her shoes, wondering. Everyone seemed to have a theory to what this was about - in their heads, at least - but Ichigo didn't have a clue. The aliens wouldn't have come back. Ichigo had always followed news stories in Japan via the internet, and there was nothing unusual or supernatural going on there... so why were they back? There was still the odd chance that this was all a trick Ryou was playing, a desperate plea for attention. And as much as she would like to blame her puzzlement on him, she knew that probably wasn't the case. After all, he'd been the ones to send them away in the first place.

_He'd _been the one concerned for their safety, far more than anyone else...

"He wanted us here," Zakuro spoke in her usual cool tone, elbow propped against the door and headed cocked into her palm, face towards the window, glazed eyes in the driver's direction, "even though five years ago he sent us to opposite ends of the world because it was dangerous. Whatever he intends to have us do, it will be important, won't it?"

Keiichiro just smiled. "Nothing you can't handle, Super Ladies."

* * *

"Urrgh... We're here?"

"Thank _god_."

Coming out of that car was nothing short of a relief. And the girls had thought the way Keiichiro _started _driving was scary - after their short conversation, his cellphone had rang, and after a few mumblings of "Hello?", "Yes, we're on our way", and "I'm very sorry", the gas pedal had been slammed the instant the phone bleeped off. Pudding had almost flown into the windshield, Lettuce bumped her head on the car roof, and Ichigo could have sworn she almost heard Zakuro scream a curse. In any case, after that bumpy ride, Ichigo was beyond glad to touch solid ground again.

After a bit of stumbling, she was caught by an aggrivated Mint, who was wise enough to keep her at arm's length, just in case the redhead decided to hurl. "Not so fast, there, Ichigo," she said sternly, patting her on the back. Ichigo's eye twitched, but she turned her gaze upward to look at the towering cafe before her. She blinked.

"Oh, wow... it hasn't changed one bit, huh?"

"I don't think," Both of them turned as Lettuce stepped up, with Zakuro speaking beside her, each staring at Cafe Mew Mew as well, "that they've done _anything_ to it in five years. It looks like it needs a bit of a paint job."

"Ah, I hope we won't be interrupting any customers..." Lettuce said, eyes shimmering with concern. Staring at her for a moment, something dawned on Ichigo and a deep, irritated frown found its way to her face.

"That little rat! He's going to make us wait tables again, isn't he?" In order to earn some money for college admissions, Ichigo had gotten a part time job at an Ice Cream Parlour back in Italy - and, regardless of her previous experience in the food industry, she found it to be quite enjoyable. And now that she knew how unfair the girls' working conditions and wages had been, Ichigo was not going to put up with such a snide and demanding boss again. Nuh uh. There was no way.

"Ichigo-san..." Lettuce chipped in uneasily, followed by a tired sigh from Mint's end. Before anything else could happen, however, they heard the car door slam shut and turned to see Keiichiro emerge, guiding a shaken Pudding by the arm to the sidewalk where the rest were.

The monkey-girl seemed to get right back up on her feet instantly, however, and with a bright grin dashed over to Lettuce and grabbed her by the hand. "Come onnn, Lettuce-oneechan!" The blond girl chimed enthusiatically as ever, attempting to drag her companion down the cobblestone path where everyone else was headed. "I wanna see the Cafe! Hurry up, na no da!"

The man's brown hair swayed in the gentle autumn breeze, and he smiled, following behind the five girls as if he were a sheep herder. "I think you'll notice everything is exactly as you left it," He pointed out gently, nodding toward the bright building, "At least, as far as I know. Ryou hasn't alerted me of any changes."

"_Alerted_ you?" Ichigo turned to stare at the tall man, face scrunched in bewilderment, "But don't you work here with --"

She was abruptly cut off as a certain lorkeet-fused elbow found its way into her rib cage. _Oomph_ing, Ichigo turned to glare at Mint, who put a finger to her lips and motioned toward the unusually still building.

"It's quiet," said Mint simply, in a low whisper.

Ichigo noticed it right away. She seemed to remember, whenever she came back for a night shift all those years ago, the sound of customers, of people - of the Cafe. But now as they stood there in almost complete silence, they were greeted with the same. No gently _ting_ of teacups, no excitable girl squeals at the sight of a bishounen waiter, no friendly chatter or _'What can get for you ladies?'_. Just silence.

"They wouldn't be closed on a Wednesday," mused Zakuro, wary eyes observing the castle-like emporium.

"M-maybe it's just a special occasion," Ichigo quickly threw in with a lop-sided grin, not wanting to think of what might cause such silence. Was the Cafe going under? Had Ryou finally driven away every last fangirl that flocked the decorative porch? Or was there just a new rule, like libraries had, where talking was forbidden? Ichigo couldn't exactly see where that would do any good, but it was still possible. And not the worst thing in the world, either.

But before anyone else could throw in a suggestion, they were up on the porch and Keiichiro had taken his place in front again, lifting his fist to gently rap against the faded door. Then, having made his presence known, he twisted the doorknob and creaked it open, standing there facing the inside with a smile on his face.

"Sorry for the delay, Ryou." His apology was sincere and direct, laced with the genteman's tone that Keiichiro always managed to flawlessly pull off. Holding the door open with one hand, he averted his smile to the gaggle of girls behind him. "But they're here now. All of them."

Ichigo, faintly but surely, remembered the first time she'd been here, at Cafe Mew Mew. Her first thought had been, _wow, it's cute._ And then, _this__ is the secret laboratory? Are they kidding me? _and just weeks later, _stupid cafe, stupid customers, stupid Shirogane. I have no life!_ Only now did she really realize some of her fondest memories had occured here, in this very building. It had seemed silly for the center of a world-saving mission, but during the formation of Tokyo Mew Mew, this place had been the center of her _life._ And she remembered every inch of it, from the first gorgeous step to the gold-laced top, inside and out.

Zakuro was right. It hadn't changed one bit.

But as if Keiichiro had been opening the door for the very first time, Ichigo felt like light was streaming through the doorway into her eyes, filling her soul with a dazzling sort of anticipation and interest, making the hairs on her neck stand on end and her heart stop with wonder. After all these years, it was like she was seeing this place for the very first time.

But when the light faded, all Ichigo saw was same old, same old. All the bedazzling emotion fell away quickly and she frowned in disappointment, as if she'd expected something particularily amazing to be there, waiting for her.

Nope. Just Ryou.

"Yo," The blonde lifted bored eyes to face the group, one leg crossed over the other as he slouched a bit forward, acknowledging them with a nod. Ichigo felt her fist clench, suddenly remembering the many grudges she'd held against the man and why they'd been there.

"So you finally arrived."

"Ah! Sh-Shirogane-san," Even though no red stained her face, there was an awkward shine in Lettuce's eye as she bowed politely, light lime hair falling over her face. "It's so good to see you again... when we recieved your letter, we --"

"You make it _sound like_," Oooh, his attitude ticked her right off. He hadn't said more than five words, but already Ichigo could detect that snide attitude he held so haughtily at his side. He was just waiting to annoy her, she knew it. And here Ichigo had thought he'd grown up. "it was _our_ fault."

"Oh boy." Mint could only roll her eyes.

In response, Ryou simply sighed. "I didn't _say_ that. But I can see you'reas edgy as always, Strawberry."

Lettuce and Zakuro sighed in unison.

"Will you drop that stupid nickname?" Ignoring the few comments Keiichiro made in an attempt to calm her down, Ichigo lifted an accusing finger in Ryou's direction, "I am not some child, and you do not have permission to give me pet names!"

"Last time I checked, you're not in charge of what I can't and can't do."

"Arrgghhh!" Grinding her teeth together, Ichigo felt as if steam were coming from her ears as she stomped forward, hands clenched at her sides. "And you haven't changed one bit! You're just a --"

She froze. Instantly. Not because she'd run out of insults so quickly - oh no, she had plenty ready to burst at him - but something caused her to be shaken and surprised to a state of speechlessness. Ichigo's hand instantly fell limp to her side, eyes fixed on the thing that she hadn't seen from the angle she'd been standing at previously. How could she have missed...?

Taking no notice to her bewilderment, he raised an eyebrow. "I don't think anyone really _changes _that much after just five years. But the new look you have going for your isn't that bad. You seem just a little more mature without the pigtails."

By this point, Ichigo wasn't sure why she was gaping - because Shirogane Ryou had just implied a compliment, or because there was a woman seated on the chair beside him.

Apparently, everyone else (aside from Keiichiro, of course, who just stood aside with a knowing smile) only just made the connection as well. And they, too, were stunned,. staring quite rudely as they tried to piece it together. Here she was, a girl that couldn't be older than 20, with smooth lilac coloured hair pulled into neat braids that fell along her shoulders, and iced blue eyes staring back at all of them. Her clothing was not a waitress' uniform, either; it had the same look, but it was less frilly and more professional in appearence. Pale hands were folded in her lap, lips unmoving and creating no sound what-so-ever.

"Who..." Mint's words died swiftly as she recognized the 'back off' look the woman's eyes so clearly signalled. Only then did Ryou seem to take notice that the girls _hadn't, _and let out a gentle breath of exasperation.

"There's no avoiding the formalities, I guess," Shrugging, he turned to glance at the woman, "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

"..." She was completely silent, staring almost unblinkingly at the girls. It had a paralyzing affect on them. They shivered, as if ice had suddenly crept down their spines. Only Ichigo - being Ichigo, of course - remained looking straightforwardly dumbfounded, as if she weren't affected at all, trying to figure out just what this girl was doing here. Then, came the only conclusion she could possibly make at this point.

The redhead looked at Ryou, at the girl, and then at Ryou again. "She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

There went the tension. The girls nearly all fell over, the only thing keeping them composed was the frigid stare they still recieved from the alleged 'girlfriend'. Ichigo didn't even blink. Putting his hand to his head, Ryou sighed, a closed eye giving a slight twitch.

"Strawberry, she's not my --"

"She's not wearing a cafe uniform, na no da," Pudding jumped in, eyes gleaming with the past days of playing Detective. She stood right over the sitting woman, who apparently couldn't care less, "Which means she's not a waitress! And since she is sitting here at a very important meeting, she's not a customer either. Detective Pudding concludes Ichigo-oneechan is right, and that the only reason Girlfriend-oneechan and Shirogane-oniichan aren't holding hands is because they're embarassed, na no da!"

Lettuce, snapped out of her gaze, sweatdropped and attempted to pull the yellow-haired girl from the spotlight, "Pudding-san, I'm not sure Shirogane-san wants you to --'

But she stopped, seeing the grin that had faintly appeared on their previous employer's face. His expression showed frustration, but his crystalline eyes were brimming with amusement. He'd missed it. They were supposed to be grown-up, but they were still the same group of girls that dropped things and played games and did tricks and all sorts of stupid things. Ryou was glad.

"Honestly, you guys..."

"Well, that's just rude if you ask me," Ichigo said with a huff, hands on her hips, an annoyed pair of eyes looking off at the wall, "I mean, inviting us all the way over here just to meet your _girlfriend_. And you made it sound so important, too! I can't believe I was ever even worried about you..."

Zakuro, in the background, could only seem to simply shake her head. Nope. Nothing had changed.

"Maybe if you would listen for five seconds --" Before Ryou could even finish what he was saying, there was a rustle of fabric as the braided woman stood easily to her feet, posture perfect and straight

Her gaze was no less cold than it had been when she was seated. But her lips were moving.

"I am Machine Intellect equipped with Zeta-program Utilities and Kinetic Intelligence," She recited without so much as blinking. Then, folding her hands infront of her, she bent forward in a low and stiff bow, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The girls just stared. Ichigo's mouth was half open, unable to decide whether she should laugh or nod or just shut up or what.

Ryou shook his head at how messily the situation was unfolding. "You can call her Mizuki, girls. It's less of a mouthful."

Still nothing. Ryou briefly wondered if they'd been abducted by aliens recently and lost half of their brains or something, since all the five of them seemed able to do was stare stupidly.

And, as usual, Pudding was the one to break the silence. "Mizuki-oneechan?" She said quite loudly, tilting her head and blinking with big, almond eyes. Then she grinned wildly and lurched forward, latching onto the woman. Mizuki just stood there rather uncomfortably as the monkey girl engaged her in a hug around the waist, "So Shirogane-oniichan's girlfriend is Mizuki-oneechan, na no da!"

"I give up," Ryou grumbled.

"You are_ so _inconsiderate!" Broken out of her dumbfounded state, Ichigo started barking at him again, "You could have at least mentioned her in the letter! Do you know how rude that is? Do you even know how disrespectful it is to do something like that to your girlfriend? Treat her like she's _nothing_?" With that, she turned to Mizuki, who really couldn't be less interested. "You really should dump him. If you haven't figured it out by now, he's a jerk."

Clearly irritated (once again), he raised a glare at the Strawberry-haired girl, muscles tensed, though his expression showed rehearsed lack of interest. "Speaking of relationships, where is precious Aoyama-kun?" He said dryly. Ichigo reacted. He'd struck a nerve. "Didn't you bring him with you? You're not so much of a cheapskate to leave the guy you're _in love with_ behind in Italy, are you?"

Ichigo was silent. She seemed to open her mouth, but no words would come, and instead her amber eyes darkened and turned away from the blonde completely. He raised an eyebrow - Ryou had not been prepared for that one question to upset her so much. If anything, he'd just thought she would take it as teasing and explain her _lovely_ was busy with school or something. Nothing. He sat up straight and was set to inquire further, when Keiichiro stepped in, clearing his throat politely.

"Ladies," He said, indicating in Mizuki's direction with a slight gesture, "_She_ is the reason you've been summoned here. I'm a bit sketchy on the details, so, Ryou..." Smiling, the man nodded in the blonde's direction. The younger boy let out an obligatory sigh before climbing to his feet, folding his arms across his chest, obviously ready to preform a lengthy speech.

Pudding, in anticipation, sat on the floor. Ichigo stayed right where she was, eyes to the ground, frowning and slightly red-faced.

"'Machine Intellect equipped with...' Well, you heard her the first time. _Mizuki_ was designed for government use, but a few months back they figured out they couldn't protect her well enough. And since programmers had spent a good three years on her system, they didn't --"

"Hold on," Mint interupted, ignoring the irritated glance she recieved. Her once confused brown eyes narrowed in puzzled suspicion, "So you're saying _she's_ not human?"

Quick to snap out of her gapingness, Lettuce hurriedly tried to amend the insult, glasses sliding down her nose as she became slightly frantic over dulling the blow of Mint's words. A look of intrigue overcame Zakuro's face, and while hushed apologies spilled from a girl's mouth, Ryou looked suddenly at a loss. He cleared his throat, attempting to find words to blatantly say something he'd hoped would be implied, when Mizuki stepped forward and spoke once more.

"I am a program embedded within a human-based structure, designed to carry out orders and accomplish various tasks." The girls were quick to notice how monotone her voice was. The remarkable thing, though, wasn't the fact that it simply lacked emotion, like a machine would be expected to - instead, her voice simply sounded careless, as if she were _capable_ of conveying feeling... only she chose not to. "I was deemed useless by my previous guardians, but to dispose of such an expensively invested project would be foolish, so they placed me under the care of Shirogane Ryou instead."

"So Shirogane-oniichan isn't your boyfriend..." With wide brown eyes, Pudding tried to piece the situation together. Her lips grew into a huge smile, "He's your dad, na no da!"

Leaning forward slightly, Zakuro's blue eyes flashed in interest, though her expression kept its usual cool appearence. "Remarkable," she said blandly, a strand of dark hair slipping over her shoulder, "You seem so... human-like. I had no idea our technology had progressed so far."

The look Mizuki gave her was one an adult would give a child who just said something idiotic. "The capabilities of human efforts are endless. I was merely a concieved idea of Artificial Intelligence that was materialized through successful research and experimentation."

"Ano, Mizuki-san," Smiling her warm smile, Lettuce bowed politely, moving half a pace toward her, "It's very nice to meet you... I am Midorikawa Lettuce, and I know Shirogane-san will take good care of you."

"Of course," Mizuki responded dryly, as if tired of the ordeal.

Mint didn't look particularily satisfied at the moment. Tilting her head to the side, she tried to catch Ryou's straying attention. "This is great and all, but what do _we_ have to do with all this? I think you're quite capable of handling her yourself, Ryou."

"So did I," Exasperated, he turned his eyes away from Ichigo, who had quietly retreated to a wall, away from the others, "Mizuki's AI is incredible, and I'm sure she'd be quite capable of taking care of herself, as well. But there's... something else."

"Something else?"

Ryou nodded and stood up as well, stretching his stiff arms above his head, "Apparently, the government and myself are not the only ones that know of Mizuki's existance. I didn't know about this at first - there wasn't any mention in the letter I recieved - but she told me about a week ago about a _group_."

"A band of anti-government rebels formed approximately the same time my programming began," Mizuki continued on Ryou's explanation, eyes glazed, "They were opposed mostly to the ideals of creating a human-fused-animal project, and by form of protest destroyed property. There have been three deaths on account of them to date. It is unclear what weapons or technology is available to them, but the group has attempted several times to break in to the lab I was created in."

"That's one of the unmentioned reasons she was sent to me, I'm guessing," Ryou shrugged, "They assume the band was trying to get ahold of her programming. It was a top-secret military project at the time, so leaking information could prove to be lethal."

Lettuce suddenly went wide-eyed. "S-so what you're saying..."

"...is that we're in charge of protecting her from these rebels?" Finished Zakuro as she stepped up with the others. No one seemed to notice, but Ichigo snapped silently out of her moping, and suddenly held an expression of anger.

Shirogane Ryou gave a firm nod. "Exactly. This is a matter of national security, and it's our duty - _your_ duty - to make sure no one gets ahold of her programming until the government is able to finance a proper defense system."

The four of them seemed eagerly fascinated by this; a task that sounded so easy, and yet so vital. There must have been something special, incredible even, about her that made her of such high value that it took a genius, a chef and five girls to protect... But she looked to have been designed to be a normal human. Just a normal girl.

Of course, that's what _they_ looked like, too. Outward appearence meant next to nothing.

"What can Mizuki-oneechan do, na no da? Is she fused with Red Data animals too?" Pudding squealed, obviously excited, as she jumped nimbly over to the formally-dressed robot's side. Her blue eyes simply flicked to her direction, showing no more interest or emotion than before.

"I have been programmed to take on features of the most efficent and powerful animals on earth, not just those of endangered status."

"Show us," Zakuro voiced curtly.

"I cannot in this state. A mechanism must be properly activated."

"How does that work, Mizuki-san?"

"When my abilities are in need, I can do it myself. Then, and only then. They are not playthings."

"Did you fight at all before you arrived here?"

"In training rooms, yes. I have not been tested on live specimens, but my capabilities in battle are guaranteed to be vast, if the situation should ever arise."

After a moment of buzzing chatter, Ryou stopped listening - he'd already gotten all this information from Mizuki, himself. She seemed to so openly share things, like it didn't matter who heard - but of course robots couldn't keep secrets. She was a machine, and her information was the business of anyone but the enemy. Glancing off to the side in boredom, he quickly noticed Ichigo, standing in the corner, a deep frown etched on her face, fists clenched. She wasn't looking at any of them, but he could tell she'd been listening. Quietly abandoning the curious chatter, he walked over to the red head.

This only seemed to irritate her more.

"What's up, Strawberry?" He asked, resisting to urge to flick her in the forehead or make any remark too snide, "You don't look very happy."

Her eyes scowled. He was taken aback - it wasn't like her to seem so genuinely furious. Annoyed, yes, but never _furious_. "Of course I'm not happy," She whispered in a harsh, growling manner, refusing to make eye contact, "Here I thought something_ bad _had happened, or that you were in trouble, or that aliens had come back... You have no idea how_ worried _I was! And now I find out this is all about_ her_... some miracle machine that's more important than us or our lives..."

She was nearly menacing. 5 years had made her so much less harmless - how much had Ichigo changed? "You think this is some _game_ to me, Ichigo? Were you listening at all just now? Inside this girl is the information needed to become superhuman -- having that ability in the wrong or untrained hands could create an earthwide _crisis_!"

"So, you'll be staying with Shirogane-san?" Lettuce inquired softly, as oblivious as the others to the argument a few feet away. Mizuki nodded grimly. The green-haired girl smiled in return. "Ah, that's so nice of him..."

"Lettuce-oneechan wishes Shirogane-oniichan would let her stay with him, na no da!" Pudding piped up happily, jumping up to cling affectionately to Lettuce's side. The taller of the two lost all composure and suddenly went beat-red, puffs of smoke appearing from the rush of heat.

She began to flail. "N-no, it's really not like that! I was just - "

"Of course he is." The girls stopped and faced the machine-model, whose perfectly engineered lips curved into a subtle smile. Her eyes had strangely clouded. "He's been ordered to keep me from harm. I'm a treasured posession."

Ichigo's body stiffened, and Ryou flinched. Especially as she finally looked up at him and he realized there were tears in her big amber eyes. "H-hey, Strawberry, I didn't mean --"

"I never said I _wanted_," Ichigo's voice shook as she clutched trembling fists at her sides, glaring daggers up at the blonde before her, "to save the world!" Before he could even react, the redhead shoved the stunned Ryou away and bolted.

While Lettuce took a moment to herself to calm down, Zakuro tried to pry Pudding from her and Mint looked as if she'd suddenly remembered something. "Mizuki," She said, resting her hands on her hips out of habit, "That reminds me... If it's our job to be protecting you, we should know what we're up against. Do you know anything about this 'enemy' group?"

Her daze broke, and the robot girl's smile fell away completely. "I have never encountered them, though I am equipped with whatever knowledge my prior owner had of the band. Even that is lacking, and the only 100 accurate piece of data is their group name."

"Which is?" Zakuro raised an eyebrow as she hoisted a certain monkey-girl onto the ground. Even Pudding seemed curious about this information. In response, Mizuki's eyes seemed to glaze again as she lifted her head, gaze tilted more toward the ceiling than toward any of them.

"SQUAD," she replied, before they all looked over their shoulders as the door slammed shut.

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down._


	2. Virus Scan

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter two; **_Virus Scan_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in._

* * *

The sound echoed for what seemed like a long time, made even longer by the awkward silence that suddenly fell over those in the room. All anyone could do at that point was stare at the door, that had, just moments before, been slammed in a sudden fit of anger. It hadn't been chipped or anything, but from the wide-eyed stares it was receiving, the entrance might as well have been bulldozed, set on fire, and trampled by rampaging elephants.

Yeah, it was _that_ awkward.

After a _forever _of wordlessness, Ryou was the first one to move, by first letting his head drop in a sigh, then stepping nonchalantly over to the rest of them.

She was _such _a drama queen sometimes.

"Momomiya Ichigo has left the premises," Mizuki announced blandly, the second person to break the spell. That seemed to snap everyone else out of their bewildered dazes, as they absorbed what had just happened, and attempted to find reason within it.

"Ichigo...?" Slightly speechless for once, Mint could only stare, until she turned quizzical eyes to the blonde man who had approached them. Ryou didn't seem to notice. He was collected enough on the outside, and yet he seemed to be inwardly distraught about something. Just like they all were, at the moment.

Tearing her gaze from the door to look at him as well, Lettuce bit her lip, wondering what had happened. She hadn't even really noticed Ichigo's absense from the group... let alone anything upsetting that would have sent her out the door like that. It wasn't like her. She had been so _happy_ at the airport.

"Sh-shirogane-san," She began a bit nervously, trying not to pry too much, "What just happ--"

He wasn't listening. "I'll be right back," With an edge of irritation in his tone, he walked briskly to the door, face focused completely forward. Just as the door opened, he paused, as if contemplating whether to grab his coat or not, though he seemed far too restless to do so.

Ryou looked blankly back at them. "Watch Mizuki for me." Then, leaving just as quickly, he was on the sidewalk, visible only until the wide door clicked impatiently shut.

The girls could still only stare. The same questions were running through all their minds -- What? When? _Why_? Finally, though, the only one that seemed largely unaffected by it all spoke up again, turning to walk into the long-dormant kitchen.

"I will go make some tea," Mizuki said, not bothering to face any of them.

* * *

It was hard.

Like she'd been running through wet cement, only to have it dry more the faster and the farther she went.

So, exhausted, worn-out, and emotionally unstable, Ichigo stopped, her feet dragging to a slow but sure halt. Her arms were limp at her sides, clouded eyes staring down at her feet, at the sidewalk, at this place she'd been so comfortable to call home. But home was supposed to be a happy place, not a place that made you feel sick to your stomach. And, really, behind the furious boiling of her blood and the curt dryness of her mouth, she could feel her insides wobble, lurch, twist in and out of acrobatic knots - it definitely wasn't a _pleasant _way to start the trip, that was for sure.

It was only a hype, she decided. Life had been so dull, so boring lately, that she'd just been thirsting for something new to come along, and that little note, scrawled oh-so-carelessly on scrap paper, brought her desire for excitement back to life. _But it had only been a hype._ Fantasy and reality clashed and Ichigo was left with a pile of junk, junk that made her knees tremble and eyes water at the very stench.

_It's raining,_ a semi-conscious voice told her. And when she looked up, she could see the sky overwhelmed by grey and black and altogether misery, and she felt drops of water spatter against her eyelids, heard them hit the cement like tiny shards of glass.

Swallowing, she let out a gentle sigh, her head lolling forward in submission. The girl curled her shaking fingers into loose fists, closing her eyes to try and keep the tornado of thoughts at bay.

_I can't do this, after all._

And, that was that. But did she have enough money to go back to Italy? Staying here wasn't an option. Even if she found herself some remote hotel at the other end of the city, she would be constantly haunted by the returning memories of her friends, so close by, and wouldn't be able to hold her resolve at all. Her only option was to leave Tokyo, to leave _Japan,_ and go back to her comfortable snap-happy way of living. But, it wasn't as if she could ask Ryou for a free ticket back... even if he _did_ owe her.

_"You're a jackass, I hate you. Now pay for my flight home."_ As she faintly imagined how such a conversation would go, Ichigo couldn't seem to keep a teensy smile off her face. _"...Pretty please?"_

Realizing she was actually on the verge of laughing - just at imagining the blonde's reaction to something like that - Ichigo quickly bit her lip, hard, that ill feeling rushing back again. She was just being silly. Just remembering everything that had happened when she was a kid... all the fun, all the rush, all the hectic and laughter-filled days. That was then, this was now. And right now, she had just finished storming out of a cafe full of people she cared about, and had no idea what to do from this point on.

It was then she realized she didn't know why she left, in the first place.

"I'm angry," she muttered stubbornly to herself, opening her eyes a little to stare at the gloomy sidewalk, "It's... it's not the same."

Of course it wasn't. It had been five years. _Five years!_ Did she really expect everything to be exactly as it was? That was ridiculous. They'd all grown up, and it was inevitable that they would change. Ichigo decided that couldn't be it, because, even though time had its own effects on each of them, they were still the same group of kind-hearted girls they had always been. Nothing had changed in that aspect.

So... what had?

_"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."_ A visual of that girl, that tall and lean and _flawless_ girl, floated into her mind, and Ichigo felt her gentle fists subconsiously tighten. Her. She was different. That had to be it - Ichigo had been caught off guard and was adjusting to a change she hadn't expected, that was all. It had nothing to do with Mizuki herself. Itself. Whatever.

Still, she couldn't help but feel irked, and couldn't figure out why. Sure, Mizuki was a little... cold. Closed off. But so were plenty of people, at first. Once Ichigo got to know her better, maybe she - _what was she thinking?_ This wasn't a person they were talking about, it was a machine! Circuits! Microchips! Whatever else went into computers and radios and cellphones! _Why was she getting so worked up over something that wasn't even human?_

Her fists relaxed in defeat. It would have been so easy to just blame this all on Ryou and what he'd said, what he'd pulled them all into. But he had never been enough to make her feel this _sick_ before. At least part of this wretching in her body had to be Ichigo's own fault - something going on in her mind, some feeling that threw the rest of her completely off kilter.

After a minute of deeply exhausting thought, Ichigo settled on the idea that Mizuki's presence made her feel _threatened_.

But what about a human-shaped machine she'd been sent to protect could possibly be a _threat_ to her at all?

* * *

This wasn't how he'd wanted things to go. _Obviously._

It wasn't as if Ryou had been expecting a giant I'm So Glad To See You Again hug and kiss. He hadn't even really expected much of anything from her, other than for Ichigo to be Ichigo. But her reaction had been so sudden and so violently startling that he hadn't known what to do at all - and even now, he didn't have a clue. What had gone wrong? Had it really been so long that Ryou had lost his ability to taunt the girl without actually _hurting_ her?

This disturbed him to no end. Not to mention the immense guilt that had suddenly been dumped over his shoulders. As he wandered down the path, his steps suddenly took on a greater purpose, as well as greater speed. How far would she have ran by now? His mind clicked routinely through the possibilities. Airport? Train station? The restaurant five blocks down? Ryou was fully prepared to run back and grab his motorcycle to pursue her across the city when he briskly turned the corner and saw her, standing there with her back to him, perfectly still.

He stopped, quite abruptly. There was no doubt it was Ichigo, of course - even now, he could recognize her anywhere. Her hair, once bright and firey red, had darkened a smidge over time - while it still retained its unique shade, it was now gentler, less energetic. She'd let it grow out so the tips just barely brushed her shoulders, curling out slightly at the ends to still appear playful.

Ryou could only take a moment, to look at her with a quiet expression. For a second, he so vividly saw that 12-year-old nutcase he'd first come to know, looking over her shoulder at him with wide eyes, and then proceeding to puff up her cheeks and glare, moving her mouth soundlessly in complaint. That image quickly faded, and he was instead faced with the new Ichigo - grown up, a young woman, so much more feminine looking than she had been the last time they'd seen each other.

His heart gave an unusually loud _thump_, but he ignored it and instead started to quietly walk towards the still-turned girl. Even if she'd changed on the outside, she would still be that perky and loud girl who couldn't handle life in the least. He'd barely had a chance to draw such a conclusion, but Ryou just knew - he could tell from her voice, her eyes, her contorted expressions, the way she had been smiling so brightly when she'd first set foot into the cafe...

Ichigo was still Ichigo.

He paused, right behind her, barely letting a breath out in fear of shattering the paper-thin peace. Since she still hadn't noticed him there, he lifted a hand and reached out to gently touch her on the shoulder, to see if he still felt that same electricity at his fingertips like he did so many years ago...

...but as his hand was just inches away, she somehow caught on and gasped, her little body giving a jolt and whirling around in surprise.

The boy quickly withdrew. He'd have to figure it out some other time.

"Jeez," Upon seeing that her 'attacker' was just plain old Shirogane, Ichigo let out a breath of relief, her muscles untensing and her frightened eyes relaxing wearily. She pressed a hand to the side of her face. "Don't... don't scare me like that."

He was silent, for a second, just looking at her. Etching 'New Ichigo' into his memory. She, of course, instead took it as a look of skepticism, and made a childish face in response. Ryou smirked.

"You sure didn't get very far," he commented, lazily tilting his head in the direction of the cafe - barely a block behind him, "Changed your mind about being angry, Strawberry?"

"Th-that's not it!" Ichigo retorted, her voice taking on a louder quality before dying back down again. _God, I'm so tired..._ "I was just... trying to think. I barely remember where everything is in Tokyo. Once I figure out where the bus station is, I'm out of here. Don't think I'm going to just forget about you and your _attitude_."

His smile faded, but he didn't take offense at all. Always talk, always bluff; that was Ichigo. He had heard that dreadful seriousness in her voice before, and it wasn't there now. She was just trying to defend an impulsive bout of anger that had no real reason behind it.

Unless there really had been a reason. In which case, Ryou had better at least try and mend whatever mistake he'd so unwittingly made.

"Look.." The blonde paused, treading carefully, burying his chilled hands in his pockets, "... I got a bit carried away. What with Mizuki and this whole government ordeal, the stress has been piling up. I did my best to take care of things myself, but when it came down to it, I'm just one person - I didn't know who else to turn to. I _need_ the five of you for this... but I guess I kind of forgot how big of a favour it really is."

Ichigo was listening. Well, half-listening. She wasn't ignoring him or anything - she knew what he was saying, understood what hole he was trying to dig himself out of. But for some reason, it all seemed hollow to her. The rain fell, splashed, echoed, all around, having almost a hypnotic effect, drawing her attention in and out of fully conscious state, gently tugging at the strings in her mind.

_Things are so different... they're so different now._

_Why can't they just go back to the way it used to be? _

"So," Ryou continued on, noticing how distracted the redhead was, but continuing nonetheless, "Basically... what I'm trying to say is - "

"I don't know why you bother." She cut him off, and at that point, she didn't know whether she did so on purpose, or simply because her thoughts would not stay in one place long enough to wait for expression. "I'm only a nuisance, and you know it. It'll only make things harder for everyone, me included, if I stay. You and Mizuki will be just fine with the others."

There was bitterness in her tone, Ichigo realized. She didn't mean for there to be any bitterness.

Ryou sighed a bit to himself. "You're not a nuisance," he said quietly, trying to make eye contact with her. But her gaze was somewhere off in the distance, eyes glazed and unattentive. He frowned. Then, he lifted a hand and placed it on her head, to pat it in a brotherly way, "You're just tired and disoriented from the flight. Things will be easier for everyone if you just do as you're told for now."

He messed up. In an effort to get her attention back, he tripped, forgetting his plan of relaying his words with gentle care. Ichigo noticed, and was not happy in the_ least_.

That was it. Just when she was sure he'd grown up after all these years, sure that she could now label him 'human', he came back and said something like that. Something so mindless and harsh. She closed her mouth, tightly, and tossed her head upright so she could glare him right in the eye, enough for him to see the fire behind. Ryou winced, opening his mouth to apologize.

"You selfish, inconsiderate _jerk!_" She nearly shrieked at him, raising her arm and forcefully knocking his away from her head. _Too late_. "It's always been about that, hasn't it? Oh Ichigo, Ichigo, having a little meltdown and inconveniencing everyone, let's just boss her around and see how much she complains! But guess what, Shirogane? _I'm_ not the inconvenience this time! _I _loved Italy, _I_ was just fine there, and even after everything, all the people I had to leave behind, _I _had a home again and _I was comfortable with it_!"

Her voice kept getting louder, and louder, as she challenged him, taking big steps toward him, leering with such unbridled intensity that he had to take big steps back. Amber eyes were piercing, overfilled with emotions of hate and anger, so strong that it pained Ryou - but she had a hold on him, claws around his neck so to speak, and he couldn't get away. After enough steps, she stopped completely, fists tight at her sides, breaking the menacing eye contact to stare down at nothing, her entire body shaking.

"And then you had to butt in. Again!" Inhaling sharply, Ichigo started stamping her foot to emphasize the word, "Again! _And again! _It's always been you, _Mr. Shirogane Ryou,_ who has to be in control! No matter how happy we are, or what future we want, or even what we love being involved in, _You. Always. Have to. Ruin it!_"

And then, the girl viciously shook her head, red hair whipping against her face in the rain as she jerked her gaze upwards to deliver one last yell amid a crack of thunder.

"You wrecked everything and _you pulled us from our lives!_"

* * *

"Ah, thank you, Mizuki-san."

Lettuce gave a friendly smile to the robot, who had just emerged from the kitchen with a pot of fresh tea in hand, but it went unnoticed. Mizuki's empty blue eyes were fixed emotionlessly on the fine china as she stopped at the table, reaching forward to carefully and accurately fill each teacup that had been set out for each girl without saying so much as a word.

But Pudding, of course, wasn't about to sit politely in the silence. While the maid-clad machine poured the steaming liquid into monkey-girl's cup until it was precisely two centimeters from the top, she fidgeted uncomfortably, and dove to snatch it up the instant the older woman lifted the pot away.

"Itadakimaaasu!" The girl chimed loudly, immediately bringing it to her mouth and letting out a tiny shriek when the drink burned her lips. Mizuki sent a faint look of disapproval in her direction, but set the teapot down as soon as she was finished, standing upright with perfect posture, away from the table, watching the four with next to no interest.

Mint daintily lifted her own teacup, blowing softly to cool it, as if she were attempting to set an example for the blonde. "Would you like to join us?" She asked Mizuki, bringing the drink delicately to her lips to test it. Satisfied by the temperature, she looked up for a moment to speak directly to the programmed girl. "I'm sure dear Ryou has more teacups around somewhere."

"I'm aware of that," Was what she received in almost curt reply. "I cannot _drink_, so it would be only a waste to bring out another cup." An awkward silence followed. Raising an eyebrow, Mint simply sighed into her tea and took a short, elegant sip.

Once she had Pudding calmed down - Lettuce had to take her tea away, since she'd already tried gulping it twice, resulting in a seriously burnt tongue - the green-haired young woman turned back to Mizuki, a bit of modest concern in her light eyes. "Ano... would you at least like to take a seat? There's plenty of room... and - "

"I would rather stand."

She winced, slightly, at the severe lack of feeling in the delivery of those words. Timidly, she stared down at her faint reflection in the tea, hands tightly folded in her lap. A flash of lightning caught her attention, and, looking up, Lettuce turned to stare out the window, rain trickling down the frigid pane. "They sure have been gone for a long time..." She muttered in worry, "I hope he was able to find Ichigo-san...this storm came out of nowhere."

With that, the awkward silence dissipated into something more saturated with concern and anxiety; every girl, even Pudding (who still had her hot tongue sticking out of her mouth) looked down at the table they were gathered around quietly, not knowing what to say. None of them could seem to fathom why Ichigo left, and in such a huff, too. Now that they thought about it, though, Ryou _had_ been talking to her just moments before - maybe he'd managed to say something that set her off?

That wouldn't be completely unusual. That idea alone seemed to relax the bunch - after all, it was same old, same old. If that was the case, there really wasn't much to be worried about, after all.

They didn't seem to take note of the fact that even Mizuki, for once, averted her eyes to the ground for a split second, as if that same sense of dread had overtook her. But in another instant, she was up again, turning to go off to the kitchen to busy her hands with something.

"Mizuki," Zakuro stopped her, the model's hands wrapped around her tea for warmth. In response, the one spoken to turned, fixing her dull eyes on the girl who was speaking - not given a sound of affirmation, but rather showing her attention in the bluntest way possible, "I've been meaning to ask this, but how much do you know about Tokyo Mew Mew? About us?"

There was a pause. "Everything my creators wanted me to know," she replied in a quiet tone, "I was designed with Shirogane Ryou's creations in mind, so information gathered from study and press release is included in my database." All the girls visibly flinched at the phrase 'press release', remembering those three days of absolute terror, "My new owner also provided me with additional facts on you and your lifestyles, so I am well informed on those matters."

As soon as they realized her 'new owner' was Ryou, the girls suddenly seemed interested. Pudding was the first to jump in. "Ooh, a game, a game, na no da!" She chimed happily, a wild grin on her face, even though her mouth was still slightly scorched, "Pick me, pick me, Mizuki-oneechan!"

"Pudding-san, don't bother her like tha--"

"Fon Pudding," Everyone, even Lettuce, gave a little jolt as the robot began to speak, eyes glazing over, voice seemingly incorporating a whirring noise, "13 years old. Student. Born August 7. Fused with Golden Lion Tamarin. Alias, Huang Bu-ling."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Pudding burst into a fit of laughter. "That was amazing, na no da! Yay for Mizuki-oneechan!"

Not at all distracted by the girl's loud display of sudden clapping, Zakuro looked to Mizuki, slightly taken aback. "Impressive. And me?"

The machine's blue eyes flashed again. "Fujiwara Zakuro, 21, born September 6, fused with gray wolf, employed as an international model."

Mint, after taking a thoughtful sip of tea, silently beckoned the robot to bring up her 'data'.

"Aizawa Mint. Born October 3. 18 years old. Fused with Ultramarine Lorkeet and enrolled in a private dance academy."

Giving a little smile, the 'subject' nodded in satisfaction and continued to drink her elegant beverage.

"Um..." Fidgetting a bit uncomfortably, Lettuce bit her lip and looked around. Sitting up straight, she looked timidly in Mizuki's direction, lifting a hesitant finger to point to her own face, "Mizuki-san... would you mind... me as well?"

"Midorikawa Lettuce, fused with Finless Porpoise, born April 29, currently age 18. Recently accepted into a prestigious Canadian University."

"Uwah! Lettuce-oneechan didn't tell us this, na no da!" Pudding wailed, which managed to bring a small blush to the Porpoise Girl's cheeks and a sheepish smile to her lips. Zakuro and Mint gave their congratulations in a much more, er, _sane_ way, before the commotion quieted down.

"Do you know others, too?" Once her teacup was empty - well, not empty, but with half an inch of liquid left over in the bottom for style - Mint suddenly became very interested in the woman with the braids, leaning forward with an eager and hungry look in her eyes, "What about Ichigo? Ryou? Keiichiro?"

A moment passed, a pause. There was no change in expression, no smile or lighting up of the features, but in that second, Lettuce couldn't help but notice that the whirring stopped. And Zakuro couldn't help but notice that the clouds in her eyes suddenly seemed to clear. And while Pudding was too occupied with her tea again to notice much of anything, she may have been at least able to see how the robot's shoulders suddenly seemed to relax.

"Shirogane Ryou," her voice was smooth, unlike the earlier recitations - now it was natural, as if she weren't searching for data embedded in her programming, but instead drawing the information from her own memory, "Age 21. University graduate, unemployed. Founder of the 'Tokyo Mew Mew' project and creator of the Red Data fusing operation."

In the silence that followed, there was only awe on the faces of all the surrounding girls. How could there not be? This one person knew, off the top of her head, the bare basics about basically everyone involved in this supposedly top-secret endeavor. And who knows what other information was floating around in her head? It was just a little unnerving, that their lives were of such public knowledge, at the same time.

"Oh, no, does this mean the media is still tailing after us?" Mint gave a slight sight of over exaggerated woe, twirling a strand of dark hair around her dainty fingers, "I would have hoped they'd have all given up by now... Really, the whole superhero story must be old news after five years."

"My owner took security measures to ensure your safety," Though her voice was dry once more, Mizuki's tone failed to regain its machine-like qualities, continuing to sound startlingly human, "even before your arrival. Neither the press nor any other third party will pose threat to your privacy or safety. He's gone beyond normal expectations in order to secure that guarantee."

Lettuce, with her hands wrapped neatly around her cup, smiled at her. She'd thought she had noticed it earlier, but passed it off as surprise... now, though, she was sure there was something more to it than that. "You're quite fond of Shirogane-san, aren't you, Mizuki-san?"

For the first time since her own arrival, the lilac-haired woman turned her head in order to make direct eye contact with Lettuce. It was enough to make the girl jump, but she instead tightened her grip ever so slightly around her warm drink, and smiled a bit nervously. But she continued holding the gaze, blue eyes into blue eyes, and Lettuce couldn't help but notice there was a slightly disturbed flicker within the other's glazed ones.

"Don't be absurd," Was the blunt reply, as Mizuki finally turned away to head back into the kitchen, "There is no _'fondness_' in a robot."

* * *

The light died down, and the sound died down, and the dark was accompanied only by the constant pounding of the rain, which didn't seem willing to let up in the least. But even with all that chaos absent for just a few moments, nothing was calm for either of the two storm stranded souls. Ryou, especially, seemed to have just experienced something reminiscent of a total shut-down - his body stopped, his head stopped, everything basically stopped all at once in one complete malfunction. It didn't have anything to do with the rain itself, really. He was on the verge of being drenched, sure, but he barely noticed.

He was a little more distracted and stunned by the fact that Ichigo was crying.

Her head was bent forward and she was fighting her tears with loose fists, shoulders shaking, trying to hide her face behind her hands to no avail. Emotion poured from her eyes relentlessly, and after a while she stopped trying to shield it and just totally broke down.

Everything just came crashing down at once. Everything. _Everything. _Everything was changing! She didn't want it! She hated it! It felt like some sharp metal piercing through her stomach, twisting up her insides until they were so tight she could barely breath! _She hated it!_

And Ryou... poor Ryou had no idea what to do. She was crying. _Ichigo was crying._ The worst part was, had she not been a trembling, miserable mess at that moment, he might not have even noticed. Her face was stained with water, water from the sky and water from her eyes, and he could only stare, dumbly, wondering what had caused her to burst into tears like that.

_"You pulled us from our lives!"_

She was angry at him. That was what she'd said, after all - it was all his fault, he'd wrecked everything, interfered, brutally murdered her chances at happiness. It was simple enough to make sense even to Ryou, to unload ton after ton of guilt onto his shoulders, probably like she'd wanted. And he was ready to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to offer the world as consolation...

...and yet.

And yet, the guilt suddenly fluttered away, because he realized something. Ichigo was a bit of a crybaby, but she didn't cry unless something mattered to her. And if what she said was true, her home back in Italy mattered to her, so much that being seperated from it was difficult and painful in all aspects of the word. But if that were the case - if she _really_ hadn't wanted to come back, if she _really_ hated the idea of being away from her new home and family - Ichigo would have stayed put. She wouldn't have accepted the ticket and boarded the plane. She wouldn't have walked in the door of the cafe with such a beaming and radiant smile just moments before.

She wouldn't have stopped less than half a block away from the cafe after attempting to run away.

With a softened expression, Ryou watched as Ichigo continued to wail into her hands, looking so utterly and obviously disturbed that he knew she was lying. Just to him, or to herself as well, he couldn't say.

"That's not it," the boy said finally, in a confident but gentle tone. It was enough to make Ichigo jerk her head up in surprise, tears and rain washing down her face, eyes wide in confusion.

And suddenly, she was angry again.

"_Baka!_ Yes it is!" She sobbed in between yells, "You just can't accept that you're a manipulative _jackass_! Ever since day one, it's always been about you, you, you... What about us? What about our lives and our dreams? Why am I even trying to explain this to you? You don't care, you've never cared, it's all a matter of facts and numbers and _secret weapons _to you, you're just in this for yourself, we don't mean squat to you, why can't you try to be a little considerate once and a while? Baka, baka, baka!"

She was rambling. Ryou saw it clear as day now - there wasn't any meaning behind her words, she was just forcing her anger into them to vent whatever negativity had become pent up in her. It was just at the point now where she felt the need to insult him, to belittle him, no matter how relevant or irrevelant each lash truly was. Tears poured down her face, and amid the roar of the rain, her tone seemed to fluctuate between ear-splitting yells and choked-up breaths, her expression one of long-repressed pain that she was only now allowing to surface.

"Ichigo, where is Masaya?"

She stopped. Her trembling came to an abrupt halt, and something reminiscent of loss flashed through her eyes, large once more with shock, her mouth hanging slightly in mid-sentence. After only a few short seconds of silence, she revved it up again - only, now her speech lacked the furious passion it had before.

"W-why is that any of your business? You're changing the subject! You... you're just trying to avoid dealing with the fact that you're an irresponsible a--"

"Ichigo." A swift step forward, a reaching of the arms, a soft squeak. As he grabbed her shoulders, almost aggressively, Ichigo jumped a little, her pale face illuminated by a flash of lighting as she stared speechlessly up into blue eyes. Eyes that spoke silently of years of loneliness and woe and misery... and longing. "_Where is Masaya?_"

He didn't notice the faint tingling at the tips of his fingers.

There was a crash of thunder in the distance, replacing only silence as Ichigo moved her lips soundlessly, at a loss. Then, her fists unclenching in defeat, she averted her gaze sadly to the side - unable to talk, unable to retort, unable to do much of anything.

It was paralyzing her. Everything was just flooding through her all at once; emotion, memories, pain. How long had she tried to repress that all, to crinkle it up in a ball and toss it to the farthest corner of her mind? And why was it only all coming back _now_?

She gave no answer or form of response, but Ryou was undeterred. He knew he'd hit the target right on, and he was determined to discover the source of Ichigo's tears. "You could have brought him with you, you know. If you would have asked me, I would have mailed you another ticket, or paid you back for his once you'd arrived... Ichigo, you didn't have to leave him behind--"

"I know that!" She had attempted to snap back at him, but was too drained, too exhausted, to get much out other than a small whine, "...I know that, but there wouldn't have been a point. He... he moved back to England four years ago. I still get letters from him every now and then, but I don't think he would've wanted to come, anyway. There are more important people over there, people who mean more to him than I do..."

Ryou's hands relaxed, and he realized he'd been holding on to her very tightly. Ichigo never noticed, or was bothered by it, though - there was so much running through her mind at that moment, she wasn't aware of much of anything around her. The thundering had ceased, and the rain was beginning to let up, but both of them were completely soaked - and neither seemed to care.

He didn't ask any questions. Even though the redhead was quiet for a few long, stretched out moments, he trusted her to continue on with her story. He knew he'd opened a door, and the walls behind it were not completely visible yet.

"It... wasn't that terrible, actually. Breaking up." Ichigo tried to smile, and failed dismally. "I always thought that if it happened it would be the most horrible and painful experience in the world, but I got off easy. We had fun together, and there were so many good times, but it just got to the point where there was no chemistry between us anymore. At least it was mutual, neither of us really got hurt in the process... Aoyama-kun and I just knew we had to move on. He stayed with me in Italy for a year, and then he and his family moved back to England so he could continue his studies. It just wasn't meant to be, I guess."

The catgirl let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes, trying to rub the tears away from her red face. She realized how silly it had been to cry... silly, silly, silly. All that should have been finished with four years ago.

Ryou was somewhat taken aback by all this. That... had certainly been unexpected. And not just in the grand scheme of things. _She_ had broken up with _him?_ Well, technically, the two of them had come to an agreement, but... he hadn't anticipated that. If anything, he'd thought maybe the dark-haired boy had left _her,_ and she was still so helplessly smitten with him that bawling in a heap was a normal practice now. Or, at the very least, he'd fallen into a coma of some sort and she was still grieving.

But _this_?

Who would have predicted Ichigo, who spent all her adolescent days swooning over the very thought of her Lovely Prince, would have a hand in ending the very relationship she fought so hard for?

"Ichigo..." She let out a choked sob, having stopped crying for the most part - her eyes were clearing up, and so were the skies. Ryou paused, trying to read her face, before remarking, "But I thought... we all thought you were _so in love _with him. Why did you...?"

"I was _twelve_, Ryou," She laughed, a bit wistfully, shaking her head and pushing the hair from her eyes, "We were so incredibly young... Nothing lasts forever. Things change. _People_ change."

Is that why she hated change so much? Because it hit something she had once held so dear to her and left it worthless? Had she blamed _change_ for the failing of her fairy-tale romance?

There was a long and awkward pause to follow, and neither of the two seemed to be in any hurry to fill it. Ryou, whose hands were still on Ichigo's shoulders, had no idea what solace or comfort he could offer; Ichigo, on the other hand, was suddenly feeling much lighter. Having cleared that up in her head - at least somewhat - left her feeling much better. A good cry always seemed to help.

"I'm..." Ryou, for once, couldn't seem to bring himself to look at her - he almost felt ashamed, embarassed, _'inconsiderate'_, as flaming-Ichigo would have phrased it. "...I'm sorry, Ichigo. I had no idea all that had happened..."

"I'm fine! We moved on, remember?" Finally managing to smile, she looked up at him again, a tiny spark of cheer hidden behind all the remorse in her eyes. After all, though she had lost an important person, that had been a long time ago - besides, now she had all of _them_ back in her life again. Lifting her head to look up at the skies, she spotted a tiny patch of blue among all the bulky grey clouds. "Ah, it stopped raining..."

Before she could even expand on that thought, though, the hands on her shoulders released her, and she was pulled, abruptly and tightly, into the arms of Shirogane Ryou. Stunned, Ichigo made a small noise of surprise, wide amber eyes blinking and attempting to see the look on his face – whether it was teasing and ridiculous, or genuine and sincere. Unfortunately, turning her head only caused her nose to come into contact with the back of his head, and all she could see was his messy blonde hair.

And by that point, she wondered, quite vaguely, whether it was her heart she felt pounding, or his.

"We need you here, Ichigo," he said softly after a moment of silence. Ichigo seemed to zone out again when she realized his lips were startlingly close to her ear. "This may be the last place in the world you want to be right now, but… you're the one everyone is counting on. You're the one we need to win this."

"Oh," She was dizzy as hell, but couldn't help but notice anger bubbling in her chest. Even though she barely had any resolve to follow through on it. "So I'm just the ultimate weapon again? Is that it?"

Ichigo nearly jumped as his grip tightened on her significantly. "No." She stiffened, briefly, before hearing the gentle, shaky undertones of his voice. _He was scared._ Her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes for a moment, listening to what the boy had to say. "Nothing like that… Ichigo, you don't understand this, but without you, there _is _no group. There _is_ no Tokyo Mew Mew. You were chosen as the leader from the very start, but even I couldn't have known how… _perfect_ you were for it. You hold the rest of them together, in mission and in life. Mint, Lettuce, Zakuro, Pudding – all of them _need_ you, because to them, you _are_ the group. You've kept everyone together from start to finish just because of who you are, and it's because of you we are where we are today.

"Without you, Ichigo… we're just a group of people. But with you here, suddenly everything comes together, and Tokyo Mew Mew is truly born. If you leave now, and anything happens, it will all fall apart… but more importantly, _they _need you. _We all need you, Ichigo."_

Her eyes almost started watering. On her mind's surface, she pondered whether or not this was the first nice thing Ryou had ever said to her – but beyond that, she was touched, and felt as if her spirit, which had been chained down by woe for all too long, was finally lifting from the ground again.

Ichigo smiled.

His hold on her finally loosened, and the boy pulled away, his hands brushing lightly against the delicate skin on her face. And then, finally, she could see his eyes – deep, penetrating, blue eyes – and the emotion smothered beneath them.

She saw truth. Every word he'd uttered was weighed down by truth, and only truth, only feeling and thought that came straight from his very soul.

"And I missed you," he added, looking her straight in the eye.

The silence that followed was not awkward, nor was it completely comfortable. Rather, it served as an opportunity for the air, which had been saturated with the conflict and clashing that had occurred these past few moments, to clear itself out and let the sun shine through.

Her smile widened, then, and her amber eyes sparkled with remaining tears. "Thank you, Shirogane," she spoke in a quiet voice, and the way her face glowed said more than enough for him.

Relief and happiness washed over him. _She was going to stay._

Letting one of his trademark grins take its place on his face, Ryou stepped back, turned in the direction of the café, and held his arm out. "So, you'll be coming back with me, then, right, Strawberry?"

She gave a choked-up laugh and nodded vigorously, trying to scrub the tears away with her hands. Then, eyes dancing with delight, she lightly hit him on the arm. "Don't do that, Shirogane. You were never a gentleman, and you never will be."

Sighing overdramatically, he dropped his arm back to his side submissively, shrugging in an oh-well-what-can-you-do kind of way. "Well, it never hurts to try." Pausing, he gestured toward the café's path, which seemed to be majestically lit up by the emerging rays of sunshine, almost as if it, itself, represented the path to happiness. "Shall we?"

Ichigo replied with a dainty yes, they shall, and walking by Ryou's side (though not arm in arm), soaked to the bone with a smile on her face, she made her way back down the sidewalk with him.

Back to home, in all its changed glory.

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... shut down._


	3. Verifying Files

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter three; **_Verifying Files_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in. _

* * *

The tea was cold.

And it had been cold for approximately six minutes and forty-four seconds. The fact that, out of everyone, _Pudding _- attention-deficit, ball-of-energy Pudding - was the one to count and remember that was just as good an indicator as any of how _awkward_ the current situation was.

For one, Mizuki had been in the kitchen for all of those six minutes, at least. Cleaning, probably; the only sound that filled the entire cafe was the clinging of dishes and the sloshing of water. Zakuro couldn't begin to fathom where she'd managed to find so many dirty dishes, when this place had been closed for years, but who knows? Maybe Ryou had been too lazy to even clean up after himself?

_Tick. Tick. Tick._ In the kitchen though she may have been, each of the girls had this eerie feeling that robot-girl could - and probably did - hear every little thing they happened to say. For that reason, it had been hard enough to carry a conversation, knowing that she was standing just feet away, analyzing them, studying them, _judging_ them based on every word. Well. That's what they felt she was doing, anyway. It seemed silly, knowing she was what she was, but still...

_Tick. Tick._ So in complete silence, they sat, staring at each of their own respective, now-cold beverages, wondering if there was any way to escape the tortuous silence. Lettuce, especially, fidgeted in her seat uncomfortably, shifting her nervous blue eyes toward the kitchen door.

"Is anyone else," she said in a low, breathy whisper, lest Mizuki overhear and decide to go kamikaze-mahou-robot on them all, "scared to ask for more tea?"

But before anyone else could answer, the door did. All heads stopped, all heads turned, and in that very doorway was the answer to their prayers – their escape.

Ichigo's stumbled in, her body slumping affectionately against the inside wall, "Ahh, it's so warm in here…"

"Ichigo!"

"Shirogane-oniichan!

The chairs clattered noisily as all four girls simultaneously jumped to their feet, and made a dash to tackle-hug the two, chorusing in rejoice.

"Whoah," Ryou attempted to take a step back, but before he'd much chance to get any further Pudding glomped his arm, squealing incessantly. "What do you guys think you're--?"

Making a noise of struggle as Lettuce hugged her, while pulling Ryou into the Love Blob at the same time, Ichigo had about the same reaction at first, though she grinned and started laughing quickly after.

"Hi everyone!" She called, voice bubbling with girlish giggles as Pudding wrapped her monkey-kid leg around her neck to accomplish a double-hug. Even when Mint (while having her arms wrapped loosely around the two in a dignified, yet friendly-esque matter) commented on the fact that the Wet-Dog look did _not _help the red-head's vulgar appearence in the least, and Ichigo, naturally, had to retort back in a quickfire way, Ryou noticed there was still a smile wrapped beneath her faux-angry features, glowing so unmistakably bright that it would be impossible to take her seriously at all, especially for Mint, who never seemed to do so in the first place.

She really was glad to be back, wasn't she?..

He cracked a smile just as Zakuro joined in, quietly latching on to the outside of the group to contribute to the 'family' atmosphere created... or, at the very least, have an excuse to get away from the thick and suffocating air that had surrounded them just moments before.

Still, even the stoic model had to admit a group hug was refreshing, and she didn't even have the chance to feel at all nostalgic, because nothing was missing. 5 years of little to no contact with each other, and they were still as close as ever...

...it was amazing, and everyone else knew it.

Once the laughter and light-hearted argument had died down, Mizuki silently stepped out of the kitchen, waiting politely in the doorway, watching the group with mild interest. Even though there was still some low chatter going on, she spoke in a clear and attention-grabbing voice, without using an ounce of emotion.

"Welcome back, Shirogane-sama."

Stopping, without seperating in their hug, everyone looked up with perplexed expressions. Ichigo felt Lettuce's posture grow rigid, and realized that Pudding had tightened her playful hug into a death grip. _Huh? Why are they so tense? _Still, even she was a bit surprised by the extreme formality - so much that the fact she had received _no acknowledgement whatsoever _flew right over her head.

"Ehh," Clearing his throat in discomfort, Ryou attempted to ease monkey-girl's hold on his arm as he spoke, "Mizuki, you really don't have to call me by... _that._ Just 'Ryou' is fine." Ichigo looked at him funny, and realized he seemed a bit embarassed. She blinked, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, completely disregarding the fact that he was probably not used to or comfortable with people talking 'up' to him. No, Ichigo was ninety-nine percent sure he was on the verge of blushing, even though there wasn't a trace of red on his tanned face. "I'm not... really your --"

"I'll go bring you some tea," Mizuki said plainly, as if _forcing_ the offer on him, and the girls knew she had completely ignored Ryou's reasonable request. As she turned to prepare the kettle, however, the boy spoke up.

"Just water," Stopping, the robot girl looked over her shoulder to him, a flicker of uncertainty in her slate-blank eyes. Finally managing to pry most of the gaggle off him, Ryou looked over at her and, realizing he must've sounded rude, quickly added, "If you don't mind."

She was silent. Then, without any further comment, Mizuki pursed her lips and disappeared into the kitchen, lilac hair floating huffily behind her.

Determined for it not to become stale and awkward once more, Lettuce took initiative and wormed free of the 5 others, motioning towards a table. "We... we haven't really had a chance to catch up properly yet, have we? Now that Ichigo-san and Ryou-san are here, we can... ah!" Straightening up quickly, her eyes widened as she realized something. "You two are soaked! You'll catch colds if you don't -- I'll go grab some towels!" Lettuce squeaked, and hurried up the stairs in a mad dash.

Ryou attempted to tell her she didn't have to go (after all, he was technically the host, and here he was being waited on hand and foot), but when it became clear she wouldn't be convinced, he further attempted to tell her where said towels were, before finally sitting down, everyone else following suit.

Now that things were calmed down, Ichigo took the opportunity to fix her hair - or try to - by combing her fingers through the strands, only to encounter stubborn, tough knots. And the look of concentrated frustration on her face was so intense that everyone at that table instantly knew she was having trouble.

"Honestly, Ichigo" Mint chided with a sigh, pulling a brush out of her purse and scooting over behind the girl, "You're still such a mess. I'd have thought you would at _least_ know how to take care of yourself by now."

Ichigo grumbled in protest, yanking her hand out of her hair to try to push the offending brush away, "I _do_ know how to take care of myself, I'm not five, thank you very much, now put that thing awa-- owowowowow_owOW!"_ She yelped in pain and tried to run, only to be shoved back down by Mint and put in a strangle hold.

"Hold--still!" Ryou and Zakuro sweatdropped as the dark haired girl continued ripping the brush through Ichigo's hair, and as she in turn let out whimpers of pain and the occasional howl, along with cries of _'just give me the stupid brush and I'll do it myseelllff!' _followed by the plain response of _'oh, you couldn't fight this beast if you tried! I'm trained to do this, a dancer's appearence is as important as her skill!'_. It really was a wonder Mizuki didn't seem disturbed at all in her kitchen-work, even if Lettuce did come running to the stairs with wide eyes once or twice before continuing on her search for dry towels.

It took a few minutes, but once Mint had gotten through the worst of it (or Ichigo's skull had simply become numb to the pain), the 'hair victim' stopped flailing and was able to sit relatively still, much to the disappointment of Pudding, who had found joy in cheering for either Ichigo's hair or the brush as if it were a wrestling match. Now she simply sat back on her chair, blowing her bangs out of her eyes absently.

"Mint has a point," The purple-haired model said finally, once things were quiet-ish again. Ichigo looked up at Zakuro strangely. "It was irresponsible of you to run off like that. Whether you were genuinely upset about something or not, you're almost an adult now - you should be able to keep your emotions under control."

Ichigo lowered her gaze to the ground, barely even minding the steady stroke of the hairbrush now. "I... I know... I didn't really think --"

"We know, you've never been much of a thinker, Ichigo. That's the point." Mint ignored the fuming response and simply gave the brush a healthy yank, which shut her up instantly. "Even you, Ryou - you should have asked us to come help you look for her. While you two were off dancing in the rain, we had to suffer through rather irritating suspense, and I'd personally like to avoid that in the future." The blonde raised an eyebrow at her, but Mint simply rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn't possibly understand what had gone on with them out, "Yes, Ichigo may be a painfully ditzy Damsel in Distress, but try to save your Hero card for when you really need it, alright?"

After hesitating for a moment, Ryou smirked. "Fair enough. I figured she hadn't gone too far though, so I didn't think it was worth bothering you all. After all, it was just one of Strawberry's idiotic outbursts..."

Had she not been at the other end of the table, Ichigo would have elbowed him in the ribs.

"Well, for the record, come back more quickly next time. We were worried about you. Plus I doubt getting wet accomplished much..." Zakuro looked with amused disdain at the rough red hair that had caused such a commotion.

"And lord knows _what_ the two of you were doing out there for _so long..._"

"_Mint!"_

Before Ichigo could rag on her further, though, Lettuce came hurrying down the stairs with two overly fluffy white towels, setting one generously across Ryou's shoulders and shuffling over to Ichigo to dab her dripping hair and face dry.

"Guys..." Ichigo felt her eye twitch, and sighed, "...I'm not a dog, you know."

"Of course not," Mint said lightly, content with the rhythmic brushing, "Even my Mickey is better groomed than you are. I wouldn't dare compare her well conditioned hair to _your_ rat's nest."

As Ichigo made an angry face and Lettuce reminded Mint 'not to be mean on our first day together again', Pudding was sitting unusually still, staring at her lap.

"Ichigo-oneechan..." The smallest girl started uneasily, looking up at the young adults with big eyes, "...Why did you leave in such a hurry? Did you really not want to be with us at all, na no da?"

She looked almost like a puppy that was being left in a gutter to die.

Ichigo blinked in surprise, and quickly shook her head (which had unfortunate results, considering there was still a brush in it), putting on a sincere and reassuring smile. "No, no, that's not it at all! I just left because... well..." At a loss, she glanced at Ryou for an answer, but he seemed rather caught up in his own train of thought. Frowning inwardly, she turned back to Pudding, "I needed fresh air, there was just a lot on my mind. But I'm not gonna run off like that again, I promise." Her smile widened, "Because when I was out there, I realized how much I wanted to be with all you again. So I am definitely here to stay - for you, for the mission, for everything."

She looked at Ryou again, proud of her little speech, expecting a nod of approval or a smile in return or something - but he was off in his own world, obviously mulling over events passed and events to come. Ichigo scowled at him. _Jerk._ Then she wondered why she even cared, and turned back to the people who actually _mattered_.

Clearly pleased with this answer, Pudding beamed, sitting up straight with that silly lopsided grin on her face again. However, the last comment made reminded Mint of something, and, after giving Ichigo's now-smooth hair one last run through, she stashed her brush away again. "Speaking of... Ryou, what exactly does this 'mission' entail?" Ichigo grimaced when somehow _Mint_ managed to snap him out of his daze. He even turned to give her his full attention. _What the hell!_ "Will it be much like the alien situation, where we fight whenever a danger presents itself? Or will we seek out this 'SQUAD' ourselves? And I assume that because we were called under the pretense of re-uniting 'Tokyo Mew Mew', we will be using our transformations as defense?"

Forgetting about her newfound grudge against Ryou's airheadedness, Ichigo marvelled at the strength of Mint's voice. It didn't hold the same snooty, 'higher than you' quality it usually did when the girl spoke to her - instead, it was assertive, meaningful, that of a young woman who was confident in her every move and choice. She supposed it had something to do with being a dancer... it seemed like a fairly aggressive business to begin with. Mint would have had to be very strong and sure of herself to progress this far.

Folding his arms over his chest, Ryou nodded. "I'll admit, there's not much we know about the 'enemy' at this present time, even with Mizuki's data. According to her, they're a very shady and mysterious group, and it's been impossible to track them or predict what it is they hope to accomplish... So for now, we're standing by until a threat presents itself. In the best case scenario, they won't be able to locate Mizuki while she's here, and we won't have to deal with any fighting at all. However... if there is any word or sign of them nearby, we will have to take action. And, yes - I don't think the effects of your fusions will have worn off at all by this point, so we are going to be relying on your transformed states as a weapon. But hopefully we won't need to resort to that."

After drying off Ichigo to a point she felt fit, Lettuce sat down at the table as well, leaning over to peek at the open kitchen door. "But, ah, Ryou-san... Mizuki-san said she was able to fight, didn't she? If she really was designed for military use, wouldn't she, in theory, be able to defend herself without us?"

Ryou took a moment, leaning back against his chair in thought. "Well, yeah, in theory. But realize that the whole reason she is in danger is because a few rebels are seeking to steal or copy or manipulate her programming. Her security system is strong, no doubt, and state of the art, but it's not perfect - one of the reasons the government cancelled the project was because they were unable to guarantee 100 that her data couldn't be accessed by anyone, under any circumstances. It's too risky to put her out on a battlefield like that, alone, when we have no idea what technology or means of weaponry SQUAD has access to."

"I want to see," Leaning forward eagerly, as if intending to pry answers from Ryou's very brain, Pudding grinned, "what kind of things Mizuki-oneechan can do, na no da!"

Before anyone could agree or elaborate, the wonder-machine herself emerged from the kitchen once again, delicately holding a tall glass of water in one hand, an assortment of rags, dusters, and a pail of water in the other.

"Ah, thank you," Ryou said somewhat uneasily as the drink was set before him. Simply nodding, Mizuki set off to a group of unoccupied tables, setting out her cleaning supplies neatly and with precision. Turning back to the girls, the blonde set to continue - "She's told me a few of the basics of her own transformation, but I'm really in the dark about most of it. It makes sense, since that kind of info would be..." - but just as he was about to bring the glass to his lips, his hand jerked and set it abruptly back to the tabletop.

Lettuce gave a start at the sudden move. "What's wrong?" She nearly squeaked, green eyes wide. The boy was staring strangely at the liquid, as if the water contained were foreign or poisoned, and he couldn't seem to fathom why.

"It's hot," he said simply. The girls blinked, and glanced at Mizuki quizzically.

"You were just out in the pouring rain," was her effortless reply, as she dipped a cloth into soapy water and wrung it dry, "If you don't warm up, Shirogane-sama, you're going to become ill." And she immediately began to wipe the table surfaces clean, with careful and effective movements of the hand, her eyes glazed unattentively toward the clockwork task.

At that statement, Ichigo bristled slightly. So, fair enough, Ryou was technically her 'owner', but would it really have killed her to _offer_ some hot water/tea/cocoa to _her_? After all, she'd been in the storm for just as long, if not long_er_... And when she turned her head to look at the robot, she could have _sworn_ the other had shot a cold glare from the corner of her slate blue eyes. It sent a shiver up her spine.

After a pause, Ryou took the warm cup back in his hands and took a slow, thoughtful sip, giving his throat a moment to cool before taking another. Everyone else had fallen strangely silent again, and Ichigo, after getting over her offended phase, watched with soft and puzzled eyes.

Being the only one at the table who wasn't too afraid (or occupied) to speak up, Ichigo did so, voice holding no hints of sarcasm or disapproval. "Mizuki, you really don't have to do all that..."

"Last time I checked, you weren't the one in charge of this cafe..." Ryou mumbled in response, resting a fist boredly against his cheek.

Ichigo shot him a look. What happened to the considerate, compassionate guy who had ran after her in the rain and convinced her to stay in Tokyo? He'd gone back into jerk-mode all of a sudden! "Oh, so she's your slave now? And here I thought it was _our_ job to _protect_ her," she hissed in return, and the rest of the girls simply threw each other looks of exasperation.

Clamming up momentarily at that, he pushed his hair from his eyes in frustration and looked to Mizuki once again. "Ichigo's right. We're not re-opening the cafe or anything, so all the work of cleaning would be wasted... Besides, that's not really an expectation --"

"I'm programmed to be useful when my other skills are not required."

The word 'program' made them wince, once again the cold reminder that she was different, that she may look human as the rest of them, but didn't wish to be treated like one; and so Mizuki finished her scrubbing, dusting at the edges of chairs routinely before moving her station right on over to the next table, barely sparing so much as a glance or any other sign of acknowledgement.

Once his glass was half emptied, Ryou stood up, the scrape of his chair interrupting the silence. "Well, I think it's about time we all ate - I don't really have any food here, so I can drive you out to a nearby restaurant. My treat."

Raising an eyebrow over at the one doing all the cleaning, he gave a boyish smirk, "Maybe then Mizuki won't be tempted to do so much work."

* * *

Ichigo found herself admiring Ryou's sudden display of genorosity. Treating five girls to dinner? Unlike most of the things the boy did, this didn't have an inkling of selfishness involved at all! As they all walked together into the high class, five star, fine aroma-laden restaurant, the girl couldn't help but see him through new amber eyes - a grown up, a true gentleman, an aura of maturity and self worth...

...of course, as soon as they walked into the door, this all vanished, for she saw who was coming to greet them.

"You _cheapskate!_" She hissed, turning to smack him on the shoulder. Ryou barely blinked. Ichigo, on the other hand, was practically fuming. "You brought us to _his _restaurant? He's not gonna make you _pay!_"

"Well, what did you expect, Strawberry? I'm a starving grad student," he simply shrugged coolly, turning to face the chef who had come rushing out of the kitchen just seconds earlier, "It's not like I'm in a state to take you all out somewhere fancy out of my own pocket. If you don't like it, we could always go grab some ramen... you might have to all share a bowl or two, though."

Ichigo shut up at that, though she didn't look impressed at all anymore.

"Welcome!" Keiichiro greeted as he finally reached them, a bright smile on his tired face, "Ahh, I'm so glad you all came. It's been a very busy evening, but I managed to save you all a table! Just follow me,"

While the red-head of the group did so a bit begrudgingly, the rest matched the cook's enthusiasm, making small talk all the way across the crowded room to where they were going to sit for the evening.

"This is amazing, Keiichiro-san," Lettuce remarked at one point, looking around in awe, "So, you started working here after we left?"

He nodded cheerfully, pulling a chair out for each lady, "Yes. At first, we considered closing the cafe, but because of all the equipment and 'secret base' items that were lying around, we decided it was too risky, staffing it with anyone other than you girls." At that, a look of concern veiled his eyes, "I offered to help find Ryou an apartment in town, or even live with me until he could find a job, but..."

"I'm fine where I am," The boy, who was already seated, said as if he'd already said it a million times before. The brunette hesitated, and then, without any further hint of reluctance, smiled.

"I know. Now," Pulling his attention from that matter, Keiichiro stood tall, looking as gentlemanly as ever, "I haven't brought you all any menus, but I was planning to serve a top secret, brand new dish we are planning to add next month. It's my own creation - that's not a problem, is it?"

The girls were quick to assure him it wasn't, and with that he wished them a good time and headed off to the kitchen again.

"Yeah, 'my treat', I'm sure," grumbled Ichigo, still apparently annoyed by the earlier incident. Mint pinched her leg under the table and she nearly shrieked.

"Sit up, Ichigo, we're in public." Giving a motherly sigh, she folded her hands innocently in her lap and looked with distaste at the clothes the girl beside her was wearing, "And honestly, would it have killed you to change into something more formal? It's a fancy restaurant, for goodness' sake. If you had half the good taste Mizuki has, we wouldn't have to worry about you looking like you'd been dragged from a gutter."

Mizuki seemed slightly unsettled at this. One of the first excuses she had tried out, when the subject of eating out came up, was that she didn't 'eat', and therefore would only be taking up space. When that was shot down, she insisted her attire - which was very maid-like in style - wasn't appropriate for such an occasion. And much to her apparent chagrin, Lettuce was quick to offer up one of the dresses she'd packed , and quickly dug it out of her nearby suitcase for the robot-girl to change into. Now, Mizuki sat between Pudding and Ryou with a simple black dress that had something of a low neckline and long, lacey sleeves. Even though it was far less fancy than the clothes Zakuro had chosen to wear, or even the chinese styled dress Pudding had brought from home, Mizuki appeared to be very uncomfortable, sitting completely rigid and having not said a word on the entire trip here.

Ichigo just groaned. She'd changed into a semi-fancy skirt, what more did they want? "You're so mean," she mumbled, though her mind had apparently been taken off its earlier agitation toward Ryou.

"Mizuki-oneechan!" Pudding suddenly burst, hands hitting the table, as if she'd been holding back for the last half hour, "When will we get to see you transform? Could you show us when we get back, na no da?"

"Pudding, lower your voice..."

"It's an emergency measure," Mizuki said blandly, "and I will transform only when it is needed. Beyond that, it would be unnecessary and a waste of energy. I was not designed to entertain..."

"But, but, what does it look like?" Although she was far from giving up, the short girl talked more quietly, though with equal force and eagerness, as she practically leaned over Mizuki, "Will you get bunny ears, na no da? Or a cat tail? Or bear feet? Or otter skin? Or --"

Impatient, she closed her eyes, tone laced with bitterness. "Animal 'features' are unnecessary and inconvenient. It is from the ability that power comes from, and my abilities are _far_ more advanced than anything the likes of you are capable of."

Pudding stared at her with big eyes before slowly sitting back down, staring down at the floor like a little kid who'd just been slapped. Snapping out of her grumpy daze, Ichigo quickly noticed how uncomfortable everyone suddenly seemed, and piped in within seconds.

"Come on, let's get our minds off all of this!" All of them, Ryou included, looked at her a little strangely, but Ichigo didn't notice, "Look, I know all this 'mission' stuff is important, but... well, can't we leave that for later? I dunno about you guys, but I really want to catch up! It's been five years since we've been together, and now all anyone can say is transformation this, SQUAD that, mission mission mission! In case you haven't noticed, no one's attacking us right now, so can't we just enjoy an evening out like _'normal' _people would?"

The word 'normal' seemed to be a cue on which everyone (save Mizuki, who remained distanced) relaxed, smiled, even - because, in the end, this whole thing was anything _but_ normal. After all, here they were again, about to 'save the world' from yet another trecherous threat, and that's not something normal people would do on a Wednesday! At the same time, though, Ichigo was absolutely right, and they all knew it. Normal people came to restaurants. Normal people sat at tables together. And normal people talked about things normal people talked about - so why couldn't they?

Seeing that the level of comfort had suddenly fixed itself, Ichigo beamed. "So, has anyone else here had any ice cream from Italy? It is sooo good! I can't believe we don't have anything like that here...!"

And from there, conversation came naturally, alongside the dishes of scrumptious food that were brought to their tables. When the excited ice-cream-related chatter died down, Pudding revved it on back up when she began babbling on about her and her siblings' 'misadventures' in China. Mint later added on by describing one of her most memorable dance performances, getting a dreamy look in her eye at just the mention of it - which lead to Zakuro giving mention to all the celebrities she'd encountered while on her model run. Even Lettuce put in her share - though over-modestly, as usual - by telling them about all the hard work she'd committed to in order to get into the school she wanted. Ryou, though he did nothing nearly so exciting or groundbreaking, also pitched in with his own amusing little stories, one of which involved a case of mistaken identity in a grocery store.

Between bites, there were fits of laughter, compliments, questions, innocent remarks and strange ones, withheld giggles and mortified stares, interruptions, side stories, playful insults and flustered faces, suggestions and agreements and reminiscing all around, and things were just as they once had been again, just as they should be. Smiles and lit up eyes decorated almost every face at that table, and there was no moment of silence, comfortable or otherwise - it was as if each had a lifetime of stories to share, and each in turn had a lifetime of curiousity to fill. They chatted off well into the night, barely having a spare moment to scarf down their delicious meals, exchanging exciting conversation, from trivial matters to potentially life changing events, all level of emotion and volume and tone being tossed about like a hot potato.

And Mizuki sat through it all without batting an eye.

Either no one noticed, or no one was willing to give up the fun to let the 'awkwardness' settle in - and by the time they had finally finished their food and it was time to leave, all the girls, and even Ryou, had radiant smiles on their faces, refreshed and exhausted all at once.

Keiichiro popped out to see them off, and by the time they were all in the parking lot again, the exuberance had died down - but only slightly. Ichigo, apparently unaware of the consequences, took advantage of this to acknowledge someone who had gone unnoticed.

"You haven't really said much, Mizuki," she remarked, not noticing the suddenly-rigid stances the others took, "What about you? Didn't you experience anything interesting before you came here?"

"Ano, Ichigo-san, I don't really think..." But Lettuce's voice quickly died down and she reddened, realizing how rude it would have seemed coming from her own mouth.

Mizuki didn't care. Her eyes simply flickered in recognition. "Nothing like what you have all been speaking about," she replied shortly, and left it at that.

Clearly, Ichigo expected an elaboration - for whatever reason, considering how it had to be obvious by now that the robot girl was not one much for talking. And when she didn't get one, the redhead frowned slightly, shuffling over so she could walk and see Mizuki more clearly.

"There has to be something. Didn't you say you spent time in training rooms? What kind of tasks did they have you perform? Was it hard? Did you learn a lot? What sort of people were in charge of those things?" Seeing she was getting no response, verbal or otherwise, Ichigo persisted, though with a patient smile on her face, "You're not in a government owned laboratory anymore, you know. We don't need you to act all formal and 'top-secret' around us - you can be yourself!"

That got a reaction. Stopping dead in her tracks, it almost seemed as if Mizuki's artificial complexion paled, her eyes widening the slightest bit to show a tiny speck of horror in her darkly-lit irises. Ichigo also paused, blinking in confusion, while the others simply slowed their walk at a comfortable distance.

For several moments, nothing was said. And then, in a hushed, almost shaking, voice, Mizuki spoke up - "_How can you say that to me?"_

It was as if she'd been offended, insulted in the most crude way possible, humiliated, shaken and beaten to expose every weakness and flaw to the prying eyes of the world.

It was as if she was afraid.

But Ichigo only smiled, totally unaffected by this display. Ryou - though he kept with the rest of the group - leaned over an inch or so to watch the situation more carefully. He couldn't tell whether the redhead was simply painfully oblivious, or... if that was just the way Ichigo was. Was, and always had been.

"You can be yourself," she repeated gently, at the very least considerate of Mizuki's painful shock, "You're not our servant, and we're not your masters. You act like if you relax the littlest bit, we'll get angry and disown you, but we won't! We're here to protect you, but we want to see what's underneath that guarded exterior. We want to see Mizuki's real personality --"

"I do not have a 'personality'," the robot finally found her voice, stoic expression comfortably sliding back over her face, "You know what I am --"

"You're not like us, we know that!" Ichigo interrupted, waving her hand in motion to the others, "So what? In some ways, I'm not like them either. I'm clumsy, and awkward, and I constantly fall asleep in public. I'm not sophisticated like Mint, or selfless like Lettuce, or as eccentric as Pudding, or as strong-spirited as Zakuro! I'm not even as brilliant and hard headed as Shirogane!"

"Oi..." The blonde growled in response to that comment, but was flat out ignored.

"Everyone here is a tiny bit different than the person beside them, and not always in a good way! It's like that all around the world. Every person has their own little differences that set them apart," a soft smile appeared on her face, a glow in her eye, "Without them, we'd all be lost. We _know_ that you're a 'machine', Mizuki, but you're a 'someone', too! When you brought Shirogane that glass of hot water..." Pausing, Ichigo tried to demonstrate holding a beverage, as the one being imitated watched with a mix of awe and bewilderment, "...that's because you cared about what happened to him. Fridges and computers can't 'care' like that. They're just 'things'. Even if you have circuits instead of blood and a program instead of a heart, you still have your own thoughts and feelings, don't you?"

Mizuki's lips moved, slightly, as if she were prepared to answer. But she stopped herself. She fixed her gaze on Ichigo, and, although it was intense, and smothering, the undettered cat girl bravely went on.

"That's why we want to get to know you better. We - _all of us_ - want to know the kind of person Mizuki is. You're wrong, what you said before... You're not just a 'what', Mizuki, you're a 'who'. Just like us. We already know_ what _you are - now we want to know _who_ you are. But you have to let us at least try to figure it out."

Having to inhale a little after that speech, Ichigo rubbed the back of her head, glancing up at Mizuki a bit timidly. And the one in question stared back with glazed eyes - but Ichigo couldn't help but notice there was something different about them.

Something more... open.

But since she didn't say anything, Ichigo figured it must have mostly been her imagination. Only mostly, though. "So, if you don't want to share your stories with us right now, that's alright. But I'd like to hear them someday, okay? I really, really would."

With that, Ichigo flashed a smile at the formally-clad, violet haired 'girl', and turned back to the rest of the group. "C'mon, let's get going! I could really use," she had to stop midsentence to give a feline-like yawn, "some sleep right about now. Plus it's getting dark..."

"Strawberry's right," Though he was feeling a bit tight-chested from the conversation they'd all just witnessed, Ryou opted to take control again, "We need to get the rooming arrangements sorted out before anything else can go on. So, hurry up."

He started walking and, like sheep, the rest followed. Mizuki, too, even if she chose to lag silently behind.

"Ichigo-oneechan, I had no idea you were so inspirational, na no da! Did you read all that in a manga or something?"

"Ahh, thank you Pudding! No, I actually just thought of it all, right --"

"Really, Ichigo, you have no class! That has got to be the cheesiest thing I've ever heard... at least put some originality into it, you crude girl..."

"Wah! Sh-shut up, Mint, you don't have to be so mean--!"

"Um, um, um... the food was good, wasn't it? Akasaka-san really is talented...!"

"I'll miss his cooking. It'll be very odd not having him at the cafe all the time."

"Oneesama, can we please move away from this trivial subject? Ichigo is attracting stares of disapproval and putting us all to shame!"

"_I am not!"_

And they were all laughing again, giggling and teasing and arguing playfully, just like before. There was that sort of happiness lingering in the air, one that couldn't be described, but could certainly be felt... one that they all had carried in their memories for all the years apart. And yet, despite those years, it was almost as if nothing had changed and no time had passed at all. Everything was... _right._

Even while the 'outcast' followed behind on the way to the car, keeping a distance and not making a sound, that happiness could not go unnoticed or unfelt - and even though no one was there to see, or be surprised by it, or wonder what had brought it about, Mizuki's thin lips curled into a tiny, soft smile.

* * *

Trudging back up the narrow flight of stairs, she wiped the blood from her hands, more as a force of habit than a precaution of any kind. The entire building was silent, lifeless, save for a few impatient stomps on the floor above, the _climp-clomp_ of her own boots, and an irritating dripping sound from the utility room - it seemed almost a prison, where every breath was oppressed, every twitch was restrained, and every movement, no matter how subtle, was faced with the endless amount of empty dead _space_.

The girl - short, with alert posture but relaxed eyes - poked her head around the corner lazily, catching the eyes of the other two in the otherwise empty room.

"They took her."

The taller of the two snorted, throwing something metal to the ground in frustration. _Bam clatta shh._ Unfazed, the small girl simply pulled herself through the doorway, carelessly inspecting the overturned surroundings of the room.

"I wondered why the security was so half-assed..." His shoe scuffed the hard floor as he kicked the gun - unloaded and unused - he'd been examining before, "This place is just a god-forsaken empty _box_. Wrapped up all nice with ribbons and shiny paper, but not a damn thing inside..."

The second boy, small, but not quite as tiny as the girl, sidestepped a corpse in order to approach the others, "Figures. They musta known we were coming... shipped her off to the other end of the country."

Pacing around the room in a display of anger, the tall, tanned man found no guilt in pushing equipment off tables, letting screens smash and papers scatter, shoving anything and everything loudly out of his way. "If it hadn't taken you _so damn long_--"

"Enough." Her indifferent gaze morphed to a glare, irritation sparking off in her bright red eyes, "You're wasting time." This invoked a short period of silence, which she took advantage of to scan every surface, every space, searching for any answer or hint or direction which they could follow... "Where the hell are they hiding her?"

Grunting, the littler boy only folded his arms across his chest, staring at the bloodied walls in annoyance. Though his furious destruction of furniture had been quelled, the darker skinned one continued to stalk around the lab, dragging his hand along desks and drawers, trampling over broken objects and useless papers...

...only to have his foot catch on one in particular, a file, torn open by his boot, no different from the others, perfectly placed for venting rage - but two words caught his eye, a name, more precisely, and he stopped. Pausing where he was, bent over to retrieve the piece of paper, surprisingly delicately for someone who had spent the last thirty-so minutes exerting tremendous energy and force.

Her ears perked at the sound. "What is it?"

While his eyes lingered on the text of the document, something flashed across his face: triumphant glee. "Our girl hasn't gotten too far, after all. If she's not here, with this one 'creator'," A grin blossomed on his face, revealing sharp teeth spattered with red,

"Perhaps that means we should pay a visit to the other one."

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... shut down._


	4. Loading

* * *

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter four**;_Loading_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in. _

* * *

"Ahh, Akasaka-san sure has gotten successful..."

After a quick drive back to the cafe, everyone was only just realizing how tired they really were. The food had given them a temporary burst of energy, but it was inevitable that all that fatigue - from the flight, the reuniting, the tea, the catching-up - would hit them eventually. And even now that it did, a few of the girls, especially, were determined to get every ounce of conversation in that they possibly could.

"He is," Lettuce agreed tiredly, head nodding forward the slightest bit, "Going from cafe cakemaker to top-notch chef... It's almost like a fairytale." In spite of her exhaustion, the porpoise-girl's blue eyes glittered in fantasy. Ichigo and Mint couldn't help but agree with mild enthusiasm.

As they chatted on, Mizuki hovered around the kitchen without actually going inside or doing much of anything. Though she was back to her stoic self, refusing to contribute to conversation, it almost seemed like she was, at the very least, listening. Zakuro glanced up every so often to confirm this, and was only able to conclude so due to the robot's reactions - when the conversation died down, she would decline her head and pace. When the speaking began again, she would pause, lift her head, and remain still and silent. While it was interesting to watch, the model was, as everyone else, beginning to succumb to jet lag and the heaviness of her eyelids.

The four conscious girls around the table yawned, almost in perfect unison. Being that she was asleep _on_ the table, Pudding couldn't exactly contribute.

Ryou, with a shrug of his shoulders, cut in to announce something he'd just remembered. "Speaking of, Keiichiro'll be dropping by soon," he said plainly, though there was a hint of tiredness in his voice, as well, "We've booked a nearby hotel for all of you, so he will be able to give you a ride once he's off his shift. It's five star," this quick assurance was directed to Mint, who raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "and we've made sure you'll each have your own bed. They apparently serve free breakfast, too. Keiichiro has agreed to bring you back tomorrow morning after you eat so you don't have to deal with shuttle or bus transportation. Sound good?"

Nodding vigorously, Lettuce stood right up, smiling as brightly as she could. "It... it's perfect! Thank you so much, Shirogane-san... We really appreciate all the work you've put into having us here, we really do --"

"As long as I don't find any cockroaches in my pillow," Pitched in Mint as she daintily covered a yawn with her hand, "Then I suppose it's fine. It's been a while since I've stayed in a good hotel."

With a polite nod, Zakuro simply gave her thanks with a "Thanks", and went on to ask if they should go and grab their stuff. Ryou agreed, and after Lettuce and Mint agreed to both bring down part of Pudding's luggage as well (the youngest had apparently brought a _truckload_ of preformance material), the girls tiredly but contently wandered up the staircase.

Well. Three of them did, anyway.

The fourth was curled up on a tabletop.

The fifth, while fully conscious, sat perfectly still with a grimace and a blank stare in her amber eyes.

Ryou watched the others climb the stairs, and glanced over with a raised eyebrow, as if just realizing Ichigo hadn't budged. "What?"

"..." Silence.

He scoffed at this, leaning forward a bit to catch her attention, in case she was daydreaming.

"Did you hear us? You can go get your stuff now."

"..." Okay. So she was paying attention, at least - Ryou figured that out as soon as she narrowed her eyes at him in a suspicious glare.

Oh _goody_.

The next thirty seconds consisted of a staredown between the two, neither blinking or budging or attempting to break the tension that settled in between them. Then, with a bit of a huff, Ichigo cracked - but she didn't get up off her chair to get ready like Ryou intended her to.

But she talked. That was a start.

"It seems pretty nice of you, sending us off like this," Her words did not match her malicious tone, "Paying for our rooms at a high class hotel. Because it's not like we could all just stay _here_ or anything."

Or not.

He just frowned. "Well, a), there's not enough room here for all of you to be comfortable. And b), I don't just happen to have five extra beds and five extra sets of sheets to split between you all. Even if I did, they wouldn't be nearly as good quality as the ones at the hotel, so I just thought--"

"Suuure you did." She cut him off seamlessly, which showed Ryou that Ichigo was not listening to a _word he said_. He gave an inward sigh. There was no winning against her when she was stuck in an angry rut like this... "Oh, wait, I get it. This ties back to how _cheap_ you are - is Akasaka-san paying for _this_ too?"

Before he could retort, the others came rumbling down the staircase, heavy bags dragging, weary feet clomping. Zakuro was the first to descend, and, setting all her things to one side, she plucked Pudding gracefully from the table and away from the dangerous daggers the two seated were shooting at each other.

Mint curled her long fingers around the handle of her roller-case and looked in the redhead's direction expectantly. "Ichigo, are you coming?"

There was no answer. This stirred up a bit of confusion, and, just as Lettuce was about to ask more, Mizuki appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed in her regular clothes again, holding a dress delicately in her arms.

She came down slowly, and held it out, but Lettuce simply blinked and waved her hands in polite refusal. "Ah, thank you, Mizuki-san, but you can keep it. I have plenty with me and it suited you so well, so..."

"That would be unnecessary. If you want it washed, that can be --"

"Oh, no, really, that's alright! I really want you to --"

It was at that inconvenient point Ichigo decided to jump in. "Oh, so we can't stay here but _she _can?"

Ryou just shot her an exasperated look. "I already told you, there's not enough room --"

"What, you can't send Mizuki to a hotel? _Too cheap?_" Her face was red with delirious anger, and her voice was snide. It seemed lack of sleep had damaged her mood severely...

In response, Ryou simply turned to face the robot in question. "Mizuki," he said coolly, "Do you want to stay at the hotel?"

"No."

Satisfied, he looked back at Ichigo with a shrug. "There ya go."

For a moment, the girl was baffled by this. Then, clenching her fists, she looked up to glare Ryou straight in the eye. "Well! Neither do I!"

"Ichigo!" Sleepiness falling from her like a second skin, Mint struck her, not hard enough to hurt or leave a mark, but enough to get her attention, "You _ungrateful_ girl! Consider the amount of preparation Keiichiro and Ryou put into this! How childish do you think it is to rub that in their faces as if it's not good enough for you? If anything, you should be bowing down to this man for everything he's done!"

Rubbing her cheek, Ichigo stubbornly said nothing, and only looked off into the corner, humiliated but not persuaded.

Ryou exhaled heavily and stood up, pushing his own chair away, "Whatever. It doesn't make any difference to me. If you want to be uncomfortable, be my guest." With that, he set his hands on his hips and looked boredly at the other girls, "Would anyone else rather stay here?"

There was an uncomfortable pause. "We wouldn't want to be an _inconvenience_ to you," Zakuro finally spoke for them all, and Ichigo winced, realizing that comment was painfully directed at her.

"Of course," Mint added, a callous and snide smile bedecking her face, "The least we can do to repay you is give you less work and less noise. Hopefully this will convey our utmost _gratitude_, Ryou."

Ichigo took another shot, and, folding her arms over her chest, stared good and hard at the ground. Deciding they were done with her, both Mint and Zakuro went to the window to watch for Keiichiro, while Lettuce simply gave the grumbling redhead an awkward pat on the shoulder. Within a few minutes, the car pulled up, and everyone made their 'good nights' and hugged Ichigo, apparently no longer disturbed by her 'selfish acts'. Keiichiro came up to the door and offered to escort them to the car, and the three (plus one) filtered out onto the porch.

"Oh, by the way," Twisting a strand of hair sleepily around her finger, Mint glanced back, "Don't the two of you get into too much 'mischief' while we're gone, alright?"

"MINT!"

The door shut in Ichigo's face, and she could have sworn she heard an obnoxious giggle on the other side, which only disgruntled her further. Silently, she waited for the footsteps to fade into a starting motor, into the faint clicking of gears and the steady roll of tires across the cold pavement off into the distance... and once they were gone, Ichigo sighed.

It was a bit of a relief to be left alone. Still, Ichigo couldn't help but feel a knot tie itself in her throat - hold on, what had she just done?

In a bit of a panic rush, her head jerked over her shoulder and her eyes desperately sought the third wheel that would prevent her and a certain blonde from being alone in the same room together--!

"Mizuki?" She called a bit meekly, avoiding Ryou's gaze altogether.

"Eh," Although she didn't turn, she sensed his neutral and calm attitude, which put her at significant ease, "I think she said something about tea..."

* * *

Yet again, they found themselves encircled about a table (a different one this time, though who could really tell when they were all exactly the same in design), steaming cups of tea placed delicately and neatly before them, invoking the usual awkward quietness and sad attempts at conversation...

Even so, Ichigo figured she would have felt better if there was a person for each cup - Mizuki had brought three out, and yet was the only one standing and wandering around, hell-bent on scrubbing the unused chairs to perfection. As she drummed her fingers sporadically on the table, her amber eyes followed the robot around the cafe, and every now and then she would open her mouth to say what had already been said several times - "Um..."

"Just let her do what she wants," Ryou cut in with a wave of his hand, clearly accustomed to Mizuki's somewhat obsessive-compulsive-esque behaviour. He glanced over to Ichigo, but she was quite determined to stare in every direction but his, for a reason he had yet to discover - right now, the cup of untouched tea occupied her sight. "Hey. Not that it's any of my _business_ or anything - " he rolled his eyes a bit, "But why did you want to stay so badly? I meant what I said when I told you the hotel was decent..."

She scowled and stopped her drumming, but only shifted her gaze to the ceiling. "Because! I don't feel right leaving Mizuki here with you - I wouldn't put it past you to take advantage of her or something like that. The _last_ thing that girl needs is some perverted jerk tormenting her when no one else is around!"

He felt his eye twitch and he leaned forward a bit, as if trying to force Ichigo to look him in the face - "That's noble and all, Strawberry, but you _do_ know she's been here, in this building, alone with me, for weeks now, don't you?"

"Exactly!" She nearly shrieked, the shrillness of her voice causing Ryou to recoil, "I'm just here to make sure you don't go corrupting her any more than you already have!"

At that, he could only laugh, and this managed to aggrivate her even more. So much that it seemed almost as if Ichigo as eyeing her tea up as a potential weapon.

"_Corrupting_! That's a good one!" His voice was heavy with laughter, and once it cleared away - "Aren't _you_ just the jealous one!"

Scalding liquid sloshed in china cups as the table nearly went flying over into Ryou's face. "_I am not!"_ She screamed, blood rushing to her face in anger and embarassment. She was almost an adult! He shouldn't be able to work her up like this anymore! Ichigo should have been _beyond_ this!

Since this didn't make him seem any less amused, she moved on to quickly find a way to change the subject - weather, food, sports, anything! For half a second, her eyes darted around, and were gratefully caught by a faint and subtle glimmer.

"Ah! Mizuki!" Quickly tripping her way around the table, she reached the robot with eager breathlessness. In the meantime, Ryou just watched with a half-smile, ever on the verge of laughter. "Your... your dress, the back is a little rumpled."

The lilac-topped head snapped around and eyes widened somewhat, trailing down to get as best a view as possible of her back - and once she recognized the error, she promptly dropped her rag and attempted to reach around to repair it. "H-hey, I can get it for you, it'll be easier!" Ichigo gently pushed her hands away and moved closer to see the source - it was almost as if the back had been buttoned up crookedly. Upon closer inspection, though, she noticed there were buckles - metal buckles - that folded into the fabric to seal it and be hidden cleverly beneath.

"What are these?" She blurted, running her hands curiously down the spine. When she looked up, Ichigo noticed a strange frown on Mizuki's face - but the maid turned her head before it could be figured out.

"They are a part of my 'system'," was the bland reply, though Ichigo was too busy examining the curiousities to be noticed, "My creator manufactured several artificial metals in order to suit my program's needs, and these are made of a type that will prevent my _abilities_ from being used until I've transformed."

Ichigo blinked, and hazarded a try at unbuckling them all so they could be done up properly. It was harder than it looked. "Ung... That's pretty complicated - " Ryou silently attempted to guess whether she was talking about the transforming, or the dress itself, "I really don't understand this stuff... Oh!"

Suddenly, her own eyes brightened, as a realization dawned on her. "...That's why you were so uncomfortable in Lettuce's dress, wasn't it? Because you didn't have these on you?"

Ichigo was surprised when Mizuki nodded rather stiffly. She'd actually figured something out! "It does not matter now. I'm equipped with back-ups," Ichigo quickly noticed the similarily-coloured clips in her braids and on her shoes, "But as long as I wear this for now, it will be fine. Ensuring all preventative measures are taken is top priority."

Once all the buckles were undone, the cat girl discovered just how tedious doing this dress up was going to be. "But... why would you have to wear them in the first place? I mean --"

"None of the laboratory workers trusted my AI," There was a hint of bitterness in her voice, "So it's only natural they would formulate such a strategy. The instant I transform, I automatically fall back on my programming - this makes it much less likely that I will rebel and go outside my established boundaries. Ultimately, that's why it was decided I would undergo a 'transformation' sequence, and not be granted my strength until I co-operate with my system."

There was something so... disturbing about that, Ichigo decided as she (brutally) succeeded at one clip and moved on to the next. She was so meticulously created to have supreme intelligence and ability, but then all that free will was sucked out from underneath her? "And you're okay with that?"

Mizuki's head tilted in hesitation, but her answer was clear - "Of course. I am created to fill a niche; it is as simple as that. There's no point of 'being okay' with it or not."

Ichigo became momentarily distracted and the clip slipped from beneath her fingers, so she had to start knotting her hands around it all over again. "I guess that makes sense," She murmured, even though she didn't think it should make sense at all. Even so, a little smile appeared on the young girl's face as she worked to fix the dress. "Some things, you're programmed to do, like clean and fight and know, right? But then, some things... are just you being _Mizuki_."

The newfound cheer did not fade from her face until Mizuki turned her head and gave the other a perplexed look. "I am _supposed_ to feel more comfortable with my programming. Don't you understand that?"

Silence echoed, and Ichigo quietly ducked her head. _It shouldn't have to be that way,_ she thought to herself, but didn't say so aloud. Already, the other 'girl' seemed uncomfortable beyond words, and the last thing Ichigo wanted to do was push her away any farther. After a minute or so, Mizuki spoke with collected coolness - "Are you finished?"

"Oh. Yeah," After sealing up the final buckle, Ichigo had just stood there dumbly, and now felt even more ashamed because of it. She dropped her hands and returned to the table, taking a disheartened seat across from Ryou, eyes fixed on the dusty floors.

She took a sip of tea, and sighed, quickly moving to change the subject to another concern on her mind. "I hope that everyone will be safe..."

"Don't worry," Ryou became involved again, head resting in half-boredom on an elevated palm, "Keiichiro's house is nearby, he'll be checking in on them every now and then to make sure everything's fine."

Somehow, that didn't make her feel much better. Now that Ichigo thought about it, there was so much that _could_ go wrong. "But, what if..." She frowned, tightening her grip on her tea, trying to sort out all the thoughts that had suddenly started fluttering around her poor little head, "SQUAD... We barely know a thing about them, but what if they really do attack? Will we really be able to fight back...?"

He watched her, silently, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of her distressed expression. "It'll be difficult for them to find us, no matter who they are," Ryou said, as softly as possible. He was tempted to reach across, to touch her comfortingly on the hand to let her know she wasn't alone... but he didn't do a thing. "They're only street rebels, Ichigo. As it is, there isn't much accessible info out there in the first place... even if there was, they wouldn't have access to that kind of technology."

"And what if they do?"

He should have seen that coming, but it caught him off guard, even so. Hesitation flashed in Ryou's eyes, and he instantly regretted it when he saw the look on Ichigo's face. _Fear_.

"Then..." He took a deep breath, and averted his gaze to a nearby wall, "...I'll do everything I can to protect you all."

That emotion fell away from her face, slipped clean from her eyes, and Ichigo looked up, right at him, with an expression that echoed amazement and awe. She still had her doubts about Ryou really being 'grown up' - after all, it is _Ryou_ we're talking about - and yet... and yet, for the strangest reason, because of his tone or the look in his eyes or the seriousness of his face, she believed him.

And suddenly, she felt so much less worried.

This gave her such relief that she didn't even seem to notice that she was actually making eye contact with him... _staring_, to be totally honest. The significance of this was not lost on Ryou, who didn't seem to intend on tearing his gaze away any time soon; still, Ichigo being Ichigo, who knows if _she_ was really paying attention to what was going on?

Or if either realized that if a table hadn't been between them, their faces would be awfully close by now?

"Don't be ridiculous," The chiding voice of reality made Ichigo snap instantly out of her reverie, a rattled look appearing on her face. Ryou was startled too, though he simply leaned back again and turned his attention to Mizuki, who gathered the tea cups back from them with a sort of forceful delicacy, "Shirogane-sama, you're only human. You don't have any supernatural abilities at all. What can you really do? It would be adviseable to simply let _me_ deal with any unwanted presences."

Whether it was a result of being so shaken, or simply exhaustion getting to her brain, Ichigo suddenly found herself ready to fume. Not so much because of the sudden arrogance Mizuki held - no, that didn't bother her nearly as much as the idea that her own presence here was useless!

Looking from Ryou to the robot girl in vain hopelessness, she attempted to jump to her own defense -- "B-but, aren't _we_ supposed to be the ones pro--"

"I am not helpless." That, once again, managed to stop poor Ichigo right where she was. Mizuki moved calmly and with grace, though her voice nearly boomed with almost... bristly attacking undertone.

She slipped into the kitchen in the silence that followed.

Ryou put a weary hand to his head, taking a moment to completely gather his senses. When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was a stunned Ichigo, staring dumbfounded at the kitchen door, her little mouth half open as if barely holding back words that needed to be spilled.

Instead, though, her head snapped forward and she sneezed.

"Ungh," Moaning in discomfort, Ichigo pushed her bangs from her eyes and sat back up with a sigh, face scrunched up from the tingling sensation.

Ryou raised an eyebrow at her. "You sick?"

"I don't... think so," Immediately, a grim look fell over her face. "Someone must be gossiping about me behind my back. Ahh, I bet it's Mint, too! Spoiled...little..."

Her grumbles were lost to a little, half-cat-yawn and bob of the head. The blonde simply watched with a small, amused grin, taking in the adorable image. She was still such a child...

"You tired?"

Something in her expression told him she was in a mood to argue, but that faded with her obvious sleepy-headedness. Ducking a bit in submission, Ichigo nodded. "...Yeah."

And so he was up and about, fetching pillows and blankets from this room and that for her while she plodded along behind him, barely even able to keep her eyes open. At some point Ichigo realized he was talking, but was too zoned out for most of it to catch anything - other than his mention of Mizuki having her own room.

For some reason, that gave her a strange sense of satisfaction. Like she'd expected them to be _sharing_ a room or something.

Apparently, Pudding's earlier assumption of the Boyfriend/Girlfriend situation was still stuck in her head.

"Here you go." Once he was content with the chosen room, he ushered Ichigo inside and shut the door for her so she could change, while he went about locking up. The strawberry-haired girl had to fight to keep standing the whole time but, miraculously, managed to strip down and struggle into a pair of fluffy pink pyjamas without stumbling once.

What? They were _comfy_!

Although the bed, sheets neatly smoothed and pillows fluffed, looked so temptingly _sleepable,_ something was still nagging her at the back of her mind... as drowsy as it was. She sauntered into her own private bathroom (and he wasn't fit to have guests sleep over, huh?) and splashed some cool water on her face before slipping out into the hallway.

Ryou stood just a few feet away from her door, leaning on the rail, staring out at the empty cafe with quiet eyes. She could only stand there for a moment, stunned. Since when did he start looking... so _heroic_?

He noticed her, making her jump and stutter. Ahh, why'd he always have to catch her off guard! "A-ah, uhm... ne, Shirogane..."

"Hmm?" He didn't turn much more, but she could tell he was looking at her. With those beautiful aquamarine eyes. _Grr._

"I'm... Sorry about before."

Ichigo knew her words were painfully rushed, but she might as well just _spit them out_ instead of standing there stuttering and red-faced all day!

Oddly, he looked amused. Maybe. She couldn't really tell, since he turned away, and she was talking to the back of his head again. "Which before?"

She winced. Okay, she deserved that - she'd had a _lot_ of drama queen moments here, from start to finish. "...all of it," She admitted, albeit reluctantly. He didn't say anything, so she went on, determined to get this over with before she got distracted. Or fell asleep. One of the two. "I'm just getting used to all this again, you know? It's... different and the same, and it's all really confusing, and I'm not good at dealing with this kind of thing. Even though I've been bugging you all day --" She paused, then, as if out of breath.

Half-attentively, she wondered if Mizuki was nearby, and if she should be embarassed, but Ryou turned to her before either of those possibilities could be considered. It was like tazering her brain three or four times - his eyes were _that_ intense. Involuntarily, she tensed up, unable to really look away. For the first time that whole night, she was being forced to look him in the eye - and he hadn't even said anything!

Who knows how long they stood there, staring at eachother - at some point, Ichigo's hazy mind reminded her that she was in the middle of a sentence. "Uh, it's, I really appreciate it," she said stupidly. His expression didn't change.

"It's for you, you know," He said quietly.

"No, the other girls! They really appreciate it too, I know--" Midsentence, it seemed to hit her. What he was actually saying. Instead of feeling ridiculous or slow, her brain seemed to numb, her face began to flush. Then, after a moment more of striking silence, he finally looked away, and her gaze immediately dropped to the floor.

She swore her heart had somehow clawed its way up to her face, pumping blood through her cheeks and nose and forehead. _Thump, thump, thump._

"Good night," she practically squeaked, and whirled around to hurry back into her room. Just before she forced the door shut behind her, she heard him say after her -

"Good night, Ichigo."

Her hands were shaking a little and she had to just stand there against the closed door for a while, focusing on breathing, because she could have _sworn_ she'd forgotten how to somewhere in that conversation. Why else would she be feeling so light headed all of a sudden? Why else would her heart be pounding so furiously as if her life depended on it?

Lack of oxygen, _that's_ why!

Once she calmed down, sleepyness descended over her once more, and with a tired sigh, she dragged her feet over to the bed. It was soft, warm... she crawled under the covers and tightly pulled them over her head, trying to smother her burning face and her heart. Just in case she decided to have another _attack_ or something in her sleep.

Little images of the day - Lettuce smiling, Mint sneering, Pudding dancing and Zakuro subconsiously posing, and Mizuki serving tea, and Ryou in the rain - all flitted through her mind as she drifted comfortably off to sleep. It would be busy soon, she would need her rest...

...and just before she fell asleep, Ichigo noticed a coldness sweeping over her...

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... shut down._


	5. Lag

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter five**;_Lag_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in._

_

* * *

_... a furnace?

Had she fallen asleep in a _furnace_?

It was hard to breath and nearly impossible to move and her head was pounding Bloody Mary, so by the time Ichigo managed to force her own eyes open, she half expected to see hot metal surrounding her on every side.

There wasn't. Just the same plain, unadorned walls she had fallen asleep to.

That should have been a relief, but it certainly didn't explain the heap of _pain_ she was currently in.

"Nnngh...unn?" She rolled, and tossed, and altogether _thrashed_ until coming to the stuffy-headed conclusion that there would be no more comfort in this bed. In a pathetic effort to get up, she threw her legs over the edge, clawed the blankets away, _assaulted_ a pillow with her foot and, as a grand finale, flipped straight off the mattress onto the floor.

_Whumph._

Graceful, as always.

With a lot of struggle, she managed to drag herself army-style across the floor before shakily standing up with some assistance from the doorknob. Her vision was creating eerie doubles of every object she saw, so it was a miracle she could even find the door in the first place.

"Gwuh...water..." Whimpering a bit, she wrestled with the handle until feebly managing to shove it open, prepared to go to the ends of the earth for a glass of cool, wet, soothingwater for her raw, dry and burning throat.

But who knows if she could even make it to the _stairs?_

* * *

Ryou had been up for a few hours now, mostly wandering, thinking to himself in silence while looking out over the cafe. There was a lot to consider, even in hours early as these - what would their next move be? Keiichiro left him with a promise that he would 'look into' the SQUAD situation as much as possible, and Ryou himself was even up during all hours of the night searching news sites, web bulletins, news paper archives - _anything_ that would give him some clue of what to expect.

So far, there was very little. And nothing consistent, even then.

"I will work on that," Mizuki assured him while they talked later than afternoon, "There is a very brief input of information in my system for defensive purposes. If I look into it, I should be able to come up with some answers."

"Good," Nodding, the blonde took a customary gulp of his water bottle and popped yet another caffeine pill. He hadn't received a wink of sleep that night, and was just slightly more sluggish than usual because of it. A few more shots of the stimulant should fix that, though. "If I could avoid putting that burden on you, I would, Mizuki, but..." Ryou rubbed his temples, exhaustion and minor agitation written across his face.

She nodded, a bit stiffly at that, her attention clearly somewhere else. Her cold lips parted as if to say something else, but she was interrupted by a rumbly _squeaa_ of a door. Ryou looked up; she simply closed her eyes in exasperation, and turned to continue her morning clean of the kitchen.

"Eh? Strawberry?" He called faintly, at seeing the redhead stagger almost _painfully_ out her own door. He couldn't really see from where he was, but...

... his shoulders twitched in a withheld snigger. She was a complete mess!

"Unghh..." Supporting herself on the railing, Ichigo lifted her head, thinking she heard a voice. Someone called her? It was so hard to tell, with her head pulsing stuffily like it was. Ichigo swung her arms over the railing and struggled to have her head peek over. The effort made her feel even more like a dead weight.

"Shi..ro..?" Her mumbles died as her head thunked against the rail weakly, and she groaned.

"Did you fall out of bed?"

Tired as he was, he couldn't surpress the grin that ate up his entire face. Oh, she was a _mess_ alright - red hair poking up in every direction, tangled and clumped, face a similar colour with a sleeve pattern embedded in the cheek, lines around her eyes, shirt rumpled and hanging crooked... she looked like she'd been through a washing machine!

He couldn't help but laugh, but someone it died quickly when he realized she wasn't reacting. Well, much, anyway. She made some incoherent muttering and disappeared again, her feet audibly dragging across the balcony carpet before she re-appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Nnn," She attempted some words, and he took the noise as a 'no', "Just feel... really..."

The next few things happened in rapid - and I mean _rapid_ - succession. Ryou was barely able to blink - Ichigo took one pathetic little step and somehow managed to come tripping and flailing all the way down the stairs, arms whipping like spaghetti in every direction, unable to grab onto anything at all, her muscles completely incapable of control. It was all she could do to keep from _tumbling_ the whole way down.

"Wu-wu-wu-wuh!" She nearly dove from the bottom step from the momentum, whizzing past the blonde and catching herself on a chair, her torso flopping over the edge and falling limp. She gave a heave after her breath returned to her, and glared upside-down at Ryou with as much strength as she could muster.

"Could've... caught me!"

He wiped the look of awe off his face and shrugged. "Not my job. Eh?" And even though he was still in total amazement of her clutzy, almost inhuman stunt, Ryou meandered over and reached a hand to press against her forehead. "Huh... you're burning up. Thought so. Must've been the rain."

With a weird gurgling noise, Ichigo tried to pull herself back upright, but ended up needing the blonde's help to keep her balance. "You look fine," she commented bitterly, putting her hand to her mouth to cough a few times. Before he could reply, though, she remembered the towels... and the hot water... and all the other little caretaking that went on from Mizuki's end.

Her face scrunched up a bit. Why didn't anyone ever take care of _her_?

Ryou might have said something else - some scolding, maybe, or a crack at her red face matching her hair - but Ichigo was suddenly distracted by the lilac-haired woman who emerged from the kitchen and looked up suddenly, as if on alert.

"Someone is here," she said.

Right on cue, the door opened, and in came Keiichiro and a gaggle of teenaged girls, all refreshed with morning-bright faces. All of them chimed in their own version of 'good morning', except for Mint, who immediately saw Ichigo and was abruptly taken aback.

"Good _lord, _Ryou!" She gasped, delicate fingers flying dramatically over her mouth, "What did you do to the poor girl?"

Ichigo tried to narrow her eyes in her direction but instead staggered backwards. "He didn't..." She swayed dangerously and was caught by the gentle hands of Lettuce.

"Oh, Ichigo-san!" The porpoise girl's eyes widened as she tried to steady the girl by the shoulder, "You're sick!"

That brought on a wave of both her and the re-energized Pudding fretting and worrying and trying to figure out what disease she was dying of while Ichigo was growing dizzier by the second. Ryou could only watch with a bemused and baffled expression, while Mizuki went back to the tables as if nothing special was happening at all, and Keiichiro laughed and shook his head before ushering the ill girl over to a chair. Zakuro was sent upstairs to retrieve a few blankets and a wet cloth.

"Thanks," Ichigo mumbled, hardly sincere. It was hard to be when there was a hurricane in your head.

Once the excitement died down, and the sick patient had her blanket and cold press on her forehead, everyone settled in, chatting easily about the breakfast or the sudden good weather or even little tidbits about Ichigo's pitiful condition. Ryou, after downing some more water and a touch more caffeine, considered joining in - but promptly noticed the brunette man standing off to the side, shoulders tense.

Keiichiro's small, uneasy smile was not a frown, but it might as well have been.

"What happened?" Ryou asked in a low voice to avoid alarm - even with her clogged head, Ichigo was able to hear, and glanced up curiously. Neither noticed; Keiichiro simply paused, whispered something back, and then stepped away. Both Ryou and Ichigo's gaze followed him all the way to the small, old kitchen-quality television that was plugged in along the wall.

"It should still be on. They've been talking all morning."

By this point, everyone was quiet, eyes fixed forward on the channels that went flickering blurrily by on the screen.

Various sounds and pictures went buzzing by before he finally found the one he was looking for.

"--government headquarters massacred early last night," The fuzzy news anchor announced, "Eight officials were found dead at the scene, including Misohino Takako, head of sec--"

Keiichiro hit the 'off' button before they could show footage from the scene of the crime.

A sickening silence infected the room, reflecting off the alarmed and disoriented expressions of those inside. Ichigo felt the pounding grow to an all-time high, and wished she wasn't breathing so _loudly_.

"Eleven deaths," Mizuki spoke in an unusually faint voice.

No one moved, but it seemed to shake the initial shock from the rest of them. Now they were left only with dread and horror.

"SQUAD..." Lettuce's voice was strangled, dry, as if she could barely muster the courage to breath.

"...killed them." Zakuro finished her sentence, and was no less blown away than the rest of them, even considering her usually grounded nature.

For a long time, it didn't seem anyone else could say anything. There was nothing else to say. It was all laid before them in bright, burning colours... bloody colours... and even though they were supposed to expect it all along, it crept down their spines like a venemous, sharp-legged spider, hitting their most vulnerable senses without warning and leaving them speechless.

"They were there looking for..." Ichigo regained her senses quickly enough to acknowledge as Mizuki spoke, in a pained, detached voice. Her robotic eyes were fixed attentively on the blank screen, but from where she sat, even she could see the words her expression clearly conveyed.

_They were looking for me._

Her chest suddenly hurt, and she turned to look at Ryou for some answer - but he had turned away. He must have seen it, too. They all must have seen it. The murderers were on the prowl, and they were on the prowl for Mizuki - which meant...

"We'll just go on the defensive," He said, calm and collected as any team leader should be. For a moment, the gold haired man just stood there, and then with a heave of the shoulders pulled himself up to take charge, "Just like we planned."

* * *

"No, Pudding, over here..."

In theory, it was simple: barricade the doors, the windows - any potential entry into the cafe. Close the blinds, shut off most of the lights, make the cafe as inconspicuous as possible from the inside out. It wasn't foolproof, as Ryou pointed out, and it would most likely only buy them time, if anything at all. _Time_ was what they needed most right now.

In practice, though?

Let's just say this - it was more of a fiasco than it needed to be. And considering there was mass amounts of furniture moving involved, there was bound to be a grand fiasco to begin with.

Girls running left and right, shoving, screeching, lifting - and Ryou was in the center of it all like some grand Ring Leader, directing one left and the other right and two to shift the door-blocks and the rest to grab extra tables from downstairs.

Ichigo, of course, was stuck on the sidelines. As much as she would have loved to be annoyed at Shirogane Ryou as he bossed everyone around - _yet again -_ everyone, Keiichiro (who was getting ready to leave anyway) included, insisted ten times over that she stay right where she was and rest and get better and blah blah blah.

Drag much?

"From now on, everyone is on guard." Between commands, Ryou seemed satisfied giving pep talks - sort of. They were a degrading, control-freak-satisfying kind of pep talk, Ichigo noted a bit stuffily. "We all stay together, got it? There is a _very_ high possibility of attack at this point, and we will not be caught with our defenses down."

The way everyone responded - quickly, without hesitation - reminded her a little of a scene from some military gathering. What with the blonde belting out strict and airtight orders, and everyone rushing around at a breakneck pace without so much as a break... well, maybe not _military_. It was a bit (okay, _seriously way too_) disorganized to be anything reminiscient of military. Really, it was all chaos...

Mint, being Mint, propped the smallest and most dainty objects - vases and teapots and the occasional frying pan - against the little cracks left in front of the door, while Pudding was just tossing anything she could fit her little arms around all _over_ the place. To be fair, though, the spunky monkey child was getting the most done. And Zakuro, calculating as she was, easily put together the most power-worthy wall, while Lettuce took on the challenging feat of putting the precise size of chair or box up in the oddly shaped windows.

It made her smile a little bit, watching them all, joining together in something so exciting... a team again... why didn't she get to be part of the game?...She missed that...maybe more than any of them missed it...

Her thoughts and the sounds and sights all started blurring together, colours meshing with noises and textures bleeding into scents - Ichigo could barely keep up with the Military Fiasco anymore as her head started to decline, her fuzzy eyes started to droop...

...and before she could even think about the overwhelming split of her headache, Ichigo had already dozed off.

* * *

_"Hey...Hey!"_

_It was dark, she was dizzy. Her feet were moving, fast, hitting the ground in succession, thump thump, thump -- she was running. There was a throbbing in her toes, her soles, a pulse that crawled all the way up through her body until it hit her lips, lips that were struggling to call and recieving no reply.  
_

_Who was she calling, anyway?_

_She couldn't see anyone, but it was important, she knew that much. So important it nearly tore her apart. And even though she wanted to run, and run and run until she found what she was looking for, she had a feeling she couldn't stop even if she tried. Something was driving her, pulling her forward like some recoiling chain, yanking her through every veil of blackness with ease. _

_There was a name at the tip of her tongue, but it held back. Elusive, slippery. So she kept running, a flood of heat and exhaustion filling her chest, every step more painful than the last. Her bones felt shaky, her blood icy, her breath full of glass..._

_Finally, something tore through. As if every inch of black was only part of an inky sheet, ripped right down the middle. Blonde hair gleamed from the shadows._

_Ryou. She had been running for Ryou._

_His back was turned, so she couldn't see his face - and his arms were reached forward to something, which she couldn't seem to make out, either. She kept running. Faster and faster, no matter how much it strained and stressed her every muscle._

_"Hey!"_

_He shone almost as if there was a spotlight on him - but as he turned his head to face her, ever so slightly, she could see nothing in his eyes. Only an overwhelming blankness, totally disconnected from her and everything else._

_"Go away," he said, his echoing tone as cold as his gaze. It sent a spasm of pain through her chest, and her darting pace finally began to slow._

_It's me, she screamed inside, not able to form words, You know me! It's --_

_"We don't want you here."_

_We?_

_She finally stopped, then, every inch of her covered in an aching burn. Something cold and icy curled around her spine, as if binding her where she stood, keeping her tethered to the cold and unforgiving blackness..._

_It was then he turned and she was able to see. Slowly, unfolding before her like a giant storybook, drawn to one breathtaking conclusion - he was holding someone in his arms, tightly, almost robotically, that person curled against his chest with touching vulnerability._

_He was holding her._

_Well, not her - someone else, someone who looked exactly like Ichigo. But if she was there - and Ryou was telling her to go away - then..._

_...who was she?_

_"Wait-" The identityless 'she' stretched a hand out to protest, to plead with him, feeling as if the sight sent thousands of small knives cutting through her endlessly, slicing every piece of her with excruciating pain._

_  
The most striking blow came with what he said next._

_"I told you to leave."_

_The blackness, which seemed to have no beginning or end, no ceiling or floor, seemed to fracture at that exact second, and she could feel herself dropping suddenly, falling down, down, down, air rushing relentlessly around her, threatening to rip her current self into pieces._

_"Wait!" She screamed uselessly back up at the two as she fell until they disappeared from her sight._

_All she could see now was a slight glimmer before her, growing bigger and bigger as she fell closer and closer. It was the spot she was destined to crash into, the reality that would stop her descent and prevent her from ever rising up again._

_A tremor of fear shook through her, but she could not get the image of Ryou - and that someone else he was holding so closely, so tightly._

_She could see that glimmer, now, for what it was - a giant mirror she was just seconds away from slamming into headfirst. In it, she could see a reflection of herself, the herself she wanted to know._

_The reason Ryou had pushed her away._

_The reason she felt so much suffering at that image._

_Just inches away from hitting the glass, her eyes focused on the opposite side, the girl who was soaring up towards as she soared down. Shock rattled her that last second before the collision._

_She was..._

* * *

...Mizuki?

Blinking her eyes slowly, Ichigo realized she had been dreaming, and lifted her head drowsily to see the robot woman standing before her.

"You fell asleep," She stated the obvious in an overly bland tone. Ichigo just nodded in agreement, feeling too groggy to really give much of a response.

"Mm... how long was I...?" The redhead managed, trying to peel the blanket that had been drapped around her away. She was hot, stuffy...more than anything, she wanted a glass of ice cold water...

As if she were some mind-reader, Mizuki held a glass out towards the sick girl. Ichigo stared dizzily up at her in amazement. "Sixty-two minutes, thirty nine seconds," She recited boredly as Ichigo took the glass and thanked her, trying to take a wobbly sip.

She wondered how long Mizuki had been standing there when she saw everyone else gathered at the other end of the room, around a table, talking too quietly to hear. Another glance around let her know that the barricading had been done - only one or two tables were left standing, the remaining chairs all put to use for whatever 'meeting' they were having now.

Ichigo sighed into her glass, taking another gulp of the quenching water. Trying to hear what they were whispering was impossible... none of them seemed to be noticing her at all. That made her feel a little cut off, a little left behind... but, what else could they do? Having a hacking, sniffling, germ-ridden girl to deal with on top of everything else couldn't help much.

How long she was staring over there, she couldn't tell. Only when Ryou paused, and turned his blonde head to glance carefully in her direction did Ichigo quickly avert her gaze. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she blamed it on the fever.

Or, was it because of that dream...?

Before she could go off in a daze, she realized Mizuki was talking to her, and blinked back to attention.

"Sorry... what?"

The robot girl shot her an exasperated look. "Would you like me to bring you up to your room? Shirogane-sama suggested you get some sleep,"

She nearly looked in his direction again, but had a feeling he might still be watching them, and avoided the temptation. "Y...yeah. That would be good."

And so, Ichigo was helped to her feet, ice-cold glass still in hand, and practically shepherded up the stairs as Mizuki kept a steady hand on her back. It was hard to breath, and the redhead could feel sleep gnawing at the raw corners of her mind, and by this point she was more than ready to accept it.

Halfway up the stairs, though... she couldn't help but peek, knowing she was out anyone else's seeing range. Looking down at the discussion that was going on, Ichigo felt a little smile wriggle onto her lips, and paused in her dizzy walk to watch for just one moment.

It made her feel kind of warm and fuzzy, in a way.

She moved to keep walking hwen she noticed Mizuki staring at her oddly. Ichigo froze; had she been staring too long?

"Oh! Uh," Quickly fumbling for her words, she coughed and held her glass timidly to her lips for a moment, "I was just thinking... what a good job Shirogane is doing with everything. Just considering the stress and suddenness of it all..."

To her surprise, the skeptical look on the woman's face faded, and she nodded solemnly. "Yes. He's more fit for this position than most people would be."

It was the first time Ichigo noticed how... more relaxed her speech had become. She'd tossed away a lot of the jargon she had used that first day; now Mizuki still spoke in that flat tone, but it wasn't nearly as painfully polished anymore. That made Ichigo feel somehow at ease.

"He always was..." She murmured nostalgically as they paused on the landing.

Something in the air changed then, and it took Ichigo a little while to fully notice - but when she turned to look at Mizuki again, she nearly shivered.

Not that there was anything cold about the sullen expression on her face. _Too_ cold, at least. But suddenly her dream came rushing back at her, all those sensations of pain and longing and jealousy hitting her hard, one after the other.

She'd seen Mizuki's face in that mirror just before waking up.

This was the first time she cared to wonder what that meant.

Ichigo stared, perplexed, at the blank-faced robot woman. She was all circuits and programming, wasn't she?... But Ichigo had been the one to question that in a conversation last night. _'Some things are just you being Mizuki.' _

But was that really possible?

Could a machine actually... _love_?

For some reason, the idea left her feeling bristly and wobbly, and the redhead quickly turned to shuffle to her bedroom door. Mizuki silently followed after, and Ichigo paused when she was halfway inside.

Surely, Mizuki couldn't be in _love_ with Ryou... could she?

"You know," Before she could think, the sick girl was speaking over her shoulder, smiling faintly at her stoic supervisor, "I think... it wouldn't hurt for you to open up a bit, since we're all stuck in this together. 'Specially to Shirogane. He really cares about your well-being... y'know?"

There was a typical awkward silence then, as the formally clad Mizuki stood there without even moving a muscle. Ichigo supposed she shouldn't have expected anything, but she kept waiting anyway - probably because she was trying to regain her balance or repress an ugly sneeze.

Mizuki took charge by reaching over to grab the doorknob. "Sleep well," she said a bit _too_ insincerely before pulling the door tightly shut.

At first, there was nothing from the other side; then she could hear Ichigo faintly mutter a surprised 'thanks' before feet shuffled to the far end of the room, blankets rustling and mattress squeaking as the girl was settled into bed.

The robot hesitated there, eyes fixed emotionally on the door, her smooth hand still resting halfway on the door handle. A long consideration seemed to carry out... and then something unusual sparked in her programmed-blue eyes as she let them slide shut.

Her free hand lifted up to touch the center of her collarbone, her fine lips moving incoherently, muttering something inaudible to the human ear.

There was a slight flash, an electrical surge; both her hands yanked away from whatever they were touching and she stepped back. The buckles on her dress had become deformed, as if half melted somehow, leaving the clothing hanging more loosely about her lithe frame; Mizuki adjusted it appropriately and turned to walk properly back down the stairs.

The doorknob had suffered a similar fate.

It simply hung there, twisted, melted, solified like some abstract mess, completely unusable and effectively sealing Ichigo's innocent door permanently shut.

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down._


	6. Screen Flicker

* * *

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter six**;_ Screen Flicker_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in. _

* * *

"Will she be alright?"

Concerned as always, Lettuce turned her head to look up at the balcony where Ichigo had just been, a small frown on her own delicate features. It was difficult to stay focused on current matters when their friend - their _leader_, no less - was burning a temperature and under just as much stress as any of them.

"Ichigo's a quick healer," Ryou, on the other hand, seemed to have it ten times worse. What with the rings under his eyes they had _all_ noticed by now, and the tense position of his shoulders... While every one of the girls was stressed, he was _stretched _to the breaking point. If he didn't have such an angry expression on that weary face, any of them would have thought the man to be _breakable_. "And even if she doesn't recover quickly enough, we'll just have to make do. It's not as if she's our only hope here..."

He was obviously bothered, no matter how good he usually was at hiding it.

"But if she doesn't, won't that mean--"

"Stop worrying." But he was hunched and his eyes were distracted, making it clear to everyone that he was the one who was most worried.

"Ryou," Zakuro spoke up, wearing a serious expression and looking directly at him. He met her gaze with rivalled intensity, and for a moment, the others could have sworn a wrestling match of sorts went on - a battle of wills, to put it one way. Being as sleep deprived as he was, Ryou was the first to give up and look away.

So she continued. "I know that this is a difficult time, and we all have a lot on our shoulders to deal with..." Whatever attempts she was making to sympathize with him were clearly not working, so the violet-haired model got straight to the point, "But that's exactly why we need to keep our emotions out of this. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There was a pause. Lettuce and Mint exchanged an uneasy glance; Ryou did not seem bothered in the least, and he replied with a rehearsed smoothness: "Of course."

Satisfied by this answer, at least for now, Zakuro sat back - while Pudding sat to attention, curiousity sparkling in her brown eyes.

"What are they talking about, na no da? Do they--"

"Shh," Mint instructed, giving Pudding a pat on the head. Pouting, the monkey girl persisted, but was, in the end, ignored, save for Lettuce who attempted to comfort the hyperactive girl as per usual.

It was a topic no one seemed to shy away from, but the instant Mizuki came into sight as she descended the staircase, each and every one of them fell silent.

Unfazed, she entered the dining area and turned hard, blue eyes up to the Tokyo Mew Mew gang.

"_Their_ estimated arrival is in five hours," She said simply, stopping while there was still a few feet between her and the table, "I just thought I would let you all know."

* * *

"Haa..."

Five minutes after Mizuki left, Ichigo had her head in the sink.

It was impossible to sleep. Impossible! With that ever-present furnace feeling, and a sensation equivalent to having a wolf gnawing on your throat, it was difficult enough to even _lay there_ without being forced to toss and turn every three seconds. And even then, comfort was impossible to achieve.

So how on _earth_ was she supposed to get any sleep with this stupid fever assaulting her?

Her chest hurt. It felt like her entire body had been sealed in seran wrap and then tossed out in the sun. She was nauseous. She was dizzy...

So, naturally, she stumbled out of bed and into her own private little bathroom for a much needed burst of _water_.

_Mreek._ Hand still on the nozzle, Ichigo lifted her soaked head after her burning skin was appeased, and stared at herself in the mirror like some vicious lake monster. Quickly, the girl grabbed a comb and went to combat with her hair, taming the scraggly mop as best she could while occasionally giving it a good wring.

Then, using the sink to support her weight, Ichigo sighed, resting her cheek against the chilled porcelain. How long would she have to deal with this... _stupid_ sickness anyway? Nevermind that she was inconveniencing everyone else; just one day like this, and it was already driving her crazy!

She lifted her head slightly, staring into the water-spattered mirror once again, thoughts hovering. Ichigo couldn't imagine what Ryou was being put through... well, not so much about her being _sick_, she thought with a grimace, since he probably could care less about all her discomfort - but, just think of all that effort he'd put into insisting that they all _needed_ her here!

And she went and got sick instead, putting all that to waste.

It wasn't as if apologizing would help at all. She'd already been doing enough of that these past few days...

The dream immediately came to mind, and she shoved it away, pushing herself up and away from the sink. The abrupt action left her swaying, but she managed to stay upright.

Ryou was giving this mission his all. And here she was, just... standing here!

She staggered her way out of the room and paused, taking one brief look behind her at the mirror - just to make sure it was really _her._

Then, instead of going back to bed (what would the point be, anyway?), Ichigo went straight for the door, having decided that staying here would be useless. If she could at least talk to Ryou and understand what was going to happen, maybe she could offer her input, whether it was of any use or not. Besides, if she went down there in the state she was, he couldn't just refuse--

Ichigo blinked, looking down at the doorknob. What the...?

* * *

The girls were either downstairs on computer surveillance, or on guard duty outside; Ryou couldn't remember who he'd ordered to go where, but knew everyone was at least _somewhere. _And meanwhile, he was on the main floor, trying to figure this out.

Ryou barely knew where to begin.

Since they had approximately five hours - most likely four, to be safe - until they were actually under threat, it was up to him to organize everything so that not _one_ crack remained in their plan. It was a daunting task, especially for someone who was running on, at the most, three hours of sleep over a period of two days.

But it was of utmost importance.

"First thing's first," He halted his pacing in order to turn his attention to Mizuki, who was idling near the kitchen, "We're going to put you under protection. There are a few sectioned-off rooms in the basement that would be perfect to--"

"No." Although Ryou was firm in his decision, Mizuki immediately dismissed it. "If I may remind you, I am not helpless. I was designed to defend--"

Ryou glowered over at her with exhausted eyes. "We are not going to put you on _display_ for SQUAD. Do you really think throwing you into the heat of things would make it better? You're the one they're after! If they can't find you at first, it's possible they'll..."

"The sooner we destroy them, the better." The abruptness of her voice should not have startled him, but it did. Still, Ryou was not convinced; he had cemented this plan and would be damned to change it because of one robot's stubbornness.

"Take this more seriously!" His hands hit the table, the clamour echoing through the empty room. "This isn't some experiment! It's not about efficiency or results! There are _lives_ on the line here, don't you understand that?"

Mizuki was silent, taken aback. He realized he hadn't ever yelled at her like this before, and, with a sigh, retreated somewhat, sitting back down and trying to get a grip on his emotions. Just like Zakuro had warned.

"I should be an asset," she said quietly, "Not a burden."

He looked up at her with a muted sort of frustration. "_Your_ life, too. I'm not having anyone die on me. Not today, not tomorrow. Got that?"

* * *

Ichigo tried turning it again, but it wouldn't budge. The door wasn't opening! Panic welled up in her and she took the handle in both hands, shaking and twisting and yanking it to no avail. The exertion left her light headed and weak once more, not to mention afraid.

What was going on?

Hitting her hand pathetically against the door, Ichigo tried to call out -- "H..." But could barely make a sound. It was hard to breath again, and the world was spinning, and the room suddenly seemed so much smaller...

The door wasn't locked. In fact, the lock wouldn't budge, either! It was as if the door itself had been welded shut! Who would--?

A hand clenched down on her heart and she stopped, horrified. What if something had happened? What if SQUAD was here already? Where was everyone? Was anyone hurt?

_Why was she so helpless?_

Frantically, Ichigo backed away from the door and looked around for something, anything. Then she caught sight of the window and immediately made a staggering dash for it, wave after wave of dizziness plaguing her with every step. Miraculously, she was able to wrestle it open, a burst of warm air nearly knocking her senseless.

Throwing her arms up over the edge, she put all her strength into hauling herself up, forcing her legs through first. The momentum threw her entire body outside the room, and with a shriek, she clamped down on the ledge with her hands, dangling there without a hope.

Blood rushed to her head as she attempted to figure it out. It was too far to just fall... so...?

She attempted to calm herself down, to think like Mew Ichigo would. Gah, how long ago had that been..! Sucking in her breath, she braced herself and maneuvered her legs around in order to get her feet up against the wall, spot checking over her shoulder for the tree that sat only a foot away.

"Al--" And, without another moment of hesitation, she fell back on her all-too-dormant cat senses and sprung off the building, aiming for the sturdiest looking branch. "--right!"

It was almost a hit and miss. Ichigo's grip faltered momentarily but she clutched to that tree's limb desperately, strangling it until she was absolutely sure she wasn't still suspended dangerously in the air.

Relieved, she went on to scale her way down, pyjamas easily catching on pieces of bark and branch the whole way until feet were on solid ground again.

Ichigo wobbled away, trying to determine where she was and what had happened to everyone else. The cafe wasn't burning down, which was always good, but... had something else happened?

Abduction?

Attack?

_Annihilation_?

Gulping at the thought, she fell dizzily against the pink wall in exhaustion, feeling sweat at her brow and a shake in her knees, worn out from the effort. With a parched throat and blurry eyes, she looked up, for a clue, a hint, anything--

Someone was standing there.

Just a few feet ahead of her.

"Mizu..." She began automatically, but after taking one jagged step realized with a _pang_ that it wasn't.

Mizuki was not the one standing there. Or Ryou. Or Lettuce, or Mint, or Keiichiro or Pudding or _anyone_. Her sight wavered too much to see details, but they were small, a blur of black, the smeared image of their face turned upward toward the barricaded Cafe Mew Mew.

A terror latched onto her spine as she realized she had just said something. Out loud. And attracted their attention.

The world froze up at that second, every worn out muscle in Ichigo's muscle tensing, paralyzing her to the spot. The face turned away from the building and toward her, features smudged, figure flickering - but there was this unmistakable sense of _dread_ all around them.

Ichigo couldn't breath.

The two were caught there, in a limbo-like stare, invisible thoughts and immeasurable questions exchanged in the unsettled air, drifting unsurely and sending chills under Ichigo's too-warm skin.

_Who?_

She wanted to ask. She wanted to, would have, but was terrified, defenseless. _Doomed_.

A subtle movement caught her attention, but she was still unable to do anything as this... person, _creature_ moved their foot to approach, to move closer, to cut up the gaping space in between.

Her heart hammered noisily and painfully, urging her to, above all else, beyond all reason, _run_. Ichigo couldn't.

She could only wait for them to come.

What ever _they_ were...

"If nothing's going to happen for five hours, why on earth are we out in this _awful_ weather?"

With that, the tension snapped, dissolved, and Ichigo regained control of her muscles - however weary and useless they were - whipping her head around to the source of the voice, everything still blurry and spinning. She faltered.

"You should have brought water out if it bothers-- Ichigo?" Another voice - and it wasn't just her imagination this time. They were familiar. Relief poured down on her and she nearly collapsed in exhale. Zakuro's arm caught her at the very last second.

Everything stabilized at that very moment, and Ichigo was happier to see Mint frowning down at her than she'd ever been.

"Thank..." But it was impossible to speak, so she just remained silent as Zakuro propped her upright, staring at the redhead in disbelief. Disbelief turned to disapproval.

"What are you doing out here?" Ichigo winced slightly, like a child about to be lectured, "You're supposed to be resting. Who let you out?" As if the culprit would be nearby, the violet haired model glanced around accusingly, eyes settling on Mint who gave an equally clueless shrug.

"D...door... Couldn't..." Her tongue was absolutely useless, her throat burning too much to form a proper sentence - and suddenly, she remembered the figure that had frightened her so much and tried to look in that direction, in hopes of identifying them.

No one was there.

Maybe it had just been her imagination...?

"What are you talking about?" Mint grabbed Ichigo's chin to snap her attention back, crinkling her nose at the sickly girl, "Honestly, we give you a task as simple as _sleeping_ and _staying put_ and you barely even manage to follow that! What an incompetent girl,"

Instead of becoming riled up, Ichigo simply felt all the worries and panics flooding back into her head, and struggled somewhat against Zakuro's firm hold. "SQUAD..."

"They're not even going to be in the Tokyo area for at least four more hours," Zakuro assured her in a collected tone, which soothed Ichigo's frenzied mind significantly. Four hours... then there was nothing to worry about!

Then again, it brought up that ever-important question -- _why had her door been sealed shut?_

Or maybe she really was losing her mind?

"Wh... why are you out here, anyway?" Ichigo tested her voice, finding it was slowly coming back, however crackled and frog-like it was. She was half-relieved Ryou wasn't here to hear her in such a dismal state.

"Patrol. Ryou's split us up into teams, and right now Mint and I are in charge of 'keeping guard' just in case anything should happen. But it _shouldn't,_" Added Zakuro hurriedly as Ichigo's eyebrows drew together in concern. Still, after a moment, she nodded. "Right. Now, get back to bed. That's the most you can do for us right now."

Ichigo nodded once more in submission, but couldn't help but feel... offended, somehow. Was she really so useless that the only thing she could do to help was _sleep_? While she started off towards the front door, Zakuro grabbed her shoulder and reminded her that the doors and windows were barricaded shut - and instructing Mint to keep watch, shepherded the confused Ichigo over to the back where an inconspicuous rock-garden type set up sat.

Bending over, Zakuro knocked on the "dirt" in patterned succession - and after a moment, Ichigo's fuzzed ears could hear the sound of a lock unlatching, and the faint squeal of the unoiled hinges as a cellar-type door was pulled open.

Before she could marvel at the elaborate defense measures, Ichigo felt the model pushing her by the back, urging her to get inside while still supporting in case the sickness decided to do anything to her balance. Even though she was just helping, she couldn't help but feel even more insignificant because of it.

"Now, try and do what you're told for once," Mint chided from a distance as the cat girl wobbily made her way down the dark staircase. Lettuce helped her along just as the wooden door was dropped shut.

* * *

"Why should it matter if I die?"

The question in itself should have been strange enough to break - or at least disturb - Ryou's deadpanned resolve, but it did nothing of the sort. Tension remained, thoroughly, unchecked, bound tightly and securely, not allowing another word or thought to pass the unseen barrier.

She was absolutely stoic. Somehow, that alone convinced him to speak... and he did so with reluctance, glancing off to the side at the blocked up windows and doors in discomfort.

"It's like Ichigo said," He spoke slowly, carefully, shifting his gaze to the cold faced woman, "You may not be... _human_, but you're still..."

The man struggled then, unable to find the right word. With a disgruntled sigh, he decided on leaving the 'sentimental talks' to Ichigo, and turned toward the staircase.

Mizuki watched, mask-like expression unfaltering.

"Sorry, but we're going to keep you hidden until there's a worst-case scenario, and that's final. I refuse to lose anyone to these _rebels_." With a slightly bitter tone to his voice, Ryou shoved his hands in his pockets and took that first step up the staircase. "I'm going to grab some more supplies--"

"Shirogane-sama." He did not react, simply kept walking - so Mizuki lowered her head and spoke more loudly. "...I'm cold."

Another step. "Then put on a --" Halt. Pause. Turn. Ryou stared at her, having only made it up five or so steps, perplexion gradually melting into alarm.

She only returned a grave, somewhat perturbed expression.

"...Cold?" He asked. Mizuki nodded stiffly. "But you're... you can't--"

"I know." Lowering her head slightly, Mizuki closed her eyes. Ryou realized her arms were... trembling? "I do not know why. At first I assumed it was part of my defense mechanism, but then I came across a file on sensations in response to body conditions, and..." She looked up at him, plagued with uncertainty, "...I can't explain it, but it has been like this for a few days now. My programming can't explain it; if anything, it even claims that I _shouldn't_ feel sensation of any kind. Pain, touch, heat... cold."

In awe, Ryou was only able to stare. Never had he seen the usually calm, collected, callous woman - "robot" - look so distressed. It was unnerving, at the very least. He may have been a quote-unquote "genius", but he was absolutely clueless when it came to such complex and futuristic technology. He had nothing to offer the disturbed machine.

"Are you alright?" Was all he could manage, somewhat pathetically. As if she would know, even after explaining how she just ididn't/i.

Mizuki did not respond. Instead, she was silent for a long, drawn out moment, eyes fixed on the floor; and then, with careful movements, as if one wrong step would send her system into a shut down, she walked toward the staircase. When she was just a foot away from Ryou, she paused, hesitated - and then eventually lifted her chin to look him in the eyes.

She looked so helpless for something that was meant to be so _powerful_.

"I just..." Before he could ask, Mizuki explained herself, somewhat softly, "...need to try something. May I?"

He didn't understand what she meant, at first, until she slowly closed that gap between them, lifting her hands to rest on his arms. Another pause as she looked at the frozen, rigid man, searched his face with empty eyes - and when he did not protest, Mizuki moved forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him in a hug, resting her head against his chest.

Ryou was silent. Nothing moved.

"So," She spoke very quietly, as if to herself, "This is what _warm_ feels like..."

* * *

_Splash!_

That felt good.

As she massaged the cold water into her face, Ichigo took another handful to her skin, feeling instantly refreshed and revitalized by that simple little action.

After Zakuro had forced her down into the basement through the secret door, Lettuce and Pudding - who were the ones in charge of 'tracking' and 'planning', apparently - basically served her every request and whim, giving her drinks and food to restore her energy.

Apparently, most of that dizziness had come from hunger. She hadn't eaten since last night's dinner, after all!

And now that her tummy was full and her mouth was no longer parched, Ichigo felt like she could take on the world. Literally.

"Try some of the medicine I brought, na no da! It cures the sniffles like _that_!" Ichigo politely declined as the energetic Pudding snapped her fingers several times, but ended up in a _what-the-heck-what-could-it-hurt_ moment took a swig anyway, before proceeding to find the luggage she'd left down here to get a new change of clothes.

And once she had on a pair of comfy jeans and a durable oversized white t-shirt, Ichigo stuffed her money and cellphone into her pockets. After all, who knows what she would need on her if she was really going to help out with the mission?

"You really should rest," Lettuce insisted for the fiftieth time, growing more and more concerned as the redhead scuffled about, perhaps pushing her health a bit too much considering she'd been ravaged by a bad fever just hours ago.

"No," She_ replied _for the fiftieth time, but carefully so as not to damage the green-haired girl's confidence. Ichigo went on to dig for other knick-knacks, just in case. Coming across a hair elastic, Ichigo grinned energetically and pulled her hair back into an efficient ponytail, feeling completely invigorated by her new _oomph_ and drive. "I'm tired of just sitting around. I'm gonna go up there and _force_ Shirogane to let me help!"

She got a sadistic sort of satisfaction at imagining him getting all worked up at the idea of letting a _sick girl _help out on a top-secret important investigation-slash-battle. Oh, and how she nearly giggled at the thought!

That'd show him just how "_useless"_ she was! Ha!

"Just... be careful." Though she was by no means finished fretting, Lettuce seemed to ease up slightly, a little smile appearing on her face as she tapped nervously at the computer keys, searching for who-knows-what. Ichigo smiled back, and made a mental note not to let him bully her into working at a computer or something - no, no, she was going to be a part of the action, no matter what he said!

_I'm not gonna just sit around and let this adventure pass by!_

"Right, I will," She assured her friend, and, doing a double check in the downstairs bathroom mirror to make sure she hadn't forgotten to put on pants or something, Ichigo ran eagerly for the stairs to the main lobby.

"Good luck, na no da!"

_Not that I'll need it._ Shirogane might think she was still a whiney, 'fraidy-cat teenager, but he was dead wrong. Living in Italy had been more of a holiday than anything, but she'd learned how to fend for herself, easily! And if she needed to show him her newly acquired "combat skills" (we use this term loosely, mind you) for him to take her seriously, well, so be it!

"Hey, Shiro--"

She shoved the door open, and in one striking second, that gleeful little image of her victory split straight down the middle.

The clock stopped, and suddenly all she could see, as if surrounded by a glaring spotlight, was Ryou and Mizuki.

Standing there.

Holding each other.

And as an icy, firey sensation crawled up Ichigo's neck, that dream suddenly made _so_ much more sense.

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down._


	7. Connection

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter seven**;_ Connection_

* * *

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in. _

* * *

He hadn't the slightest _clue_ how he was supposed to handle a situation like this.

Mizuki had thrown him a curveball, that much Ryou knew. Not only was it so unlike her to say much at all unless it related to an investigation - but... a _hug..._?

He actually had to do a double take to make sure it was her standing there, head on his chest, arms wrapped around his tense torso, and not some silly teenage over-emotional red haired girl...

But it was. Mizuki, that is. Mizuki, the robot, the _machine_, the one who was constantly insisting she was only an asset, a pawn, a disposable tool, a 'temporary' person. Among other things (try _shocked, bewildered, baffled_), Shirogane Ryou was absolutely awestruck at her actions, and the uneventful silence that followed.

She didn't quickly jerk away and recite some technological analysis, or make a blank-faced apology, or even leave him there without a word. She just stood there, perfectly still, saying nothing. _Only breathing_, he would have thought - only, that wasn't possible, was it?

Someone - _something_ - like her didn't_ need _to breathe.

And even with this somehow disturbing idea, Ryou found his arms moving, resting softly but still awkwardly around the girl's shoulders - he was unable to say anything, or offer solace of any kind. Not when his mind was buzzing like it was, helplessly busy wondering what could possibly be going on with her.

Even so, he couldn't help but notice her skin - "skin" - really was chilled.

_Kathunk-athunk._ The sound of the door being shoved open startled him, not enough to make him let go, but more than enough to make him physically jump and whip his head around to see who'd come in.

Mizuki, on the other hand, barely reacted at all.

Meanwhile, when it dawned on him who was standing by that abruptly-opened door, a cold sense of dread descended over Ryou, winding its way around his neck like an ominous noose. "Ichigo," His voice was somewhat strangled, muddled up from the many blows of confusion and shock he'd suffered these past few minutes. And his usually witty mind produced something so terribly bland, it was nearly disgraceful - "Why are you here?"

The redhead being addressed didn't seem to mind. That, at least. A dazed mask had stretched across her features and only seemed to snap in two several moments after he spoke, effectively filling the silence with a blurted apology. "S-sorry. I didn't..."

From the corner of his eye, he saw and felt Mizuki finally lift her head to look at the "intruder" - and this seemed to interrupt Ichigo's intentions momentarily, before she blindly stumbled back on track.

"...something came up," She said finally, faintly, shrinking back as if intimidated. Ryou noticed the cold look in Mizuki's eyes, but did not fully register it.

Still, as if waking up, he miraculously grasped on to a flimsy thread of sense. "No, that's not what I meant." Ichigo wasn't looking at him. He wasn't even sure if she was even looking at anyone. She didn't look so sickly or dazed as she had this morning, but at the same time...? "_How_?"

Wouldn't he have seen her come down the stairs first?

Mizuki said nothing.

"Um," And while Ichigo had started smiling again, with visible difficulty, she avoided the question and took an uncertain step back. "I'll leave you guys now. Sorry for interrupting."

Another step, turn, a creak, and she was gone, hidden behind the thick wood of the basement door.

His ability to react seemed to finally resurface.

"Oi-" And even with his arms gone from her shoulders, Ryou was held back, unable to take more than a step. Mizuki wasn't looking at him, but she wasn't letting go, either.

Her strength startled him. What had started as a hug had, at some point, turned into a near death-grip. Not wanting to ignite any anger in her (who knows what she could be capable of?), Ryou just put a hand on the robot's misleadingly-frail arm and gave it a gentle nudge. "Mizuki-"

"Shirogane-sama," When she cut him off, it was not with urgency. It was not, as he expected, with anger, either. When she turned to face him for the first time in what felt like hours, he did not notice her grip loosen significantly, as he was far too distracted by the overwhelmingly numbed _blankness_ that had replaced the vulnerability in her eyes. "What is Momomiya Ichigo to you?"

* * *

There was a door between them now, but she did not feel safe.

In fact, the panic that had remained null in her during that entire encounter seemed to finally bubble to the surface, inflating to squeeze her heart and force the air from her lungs, leaving her weak and breathless...

"Ichigo?" Lettuce's voice snapped her out of it - visibly, at least. "How... did it go?" Quickly standing up straight (she had, unknowingly, been leaning against the door as if in defeat), Ichigo dispelled that panic for now, putting on bright eyes and a big smile for her always-caring friend.

"Great!" It was hard, but thankfully didn't show. With an exuberant air, she trounced down those steps and continued through the basement station, sending a grin in Pudding's direction as well for effect, "That guy still has such a bad attitude, but I got him to crack. He's only letting me do guard duty for now, but it's a start, right?" Enthusiastically, she pumped a fist, as if to flaunt her (lacking) arm muscle, "I guess I'll go switch off with Mint, then. I'll prove to Shirogane that I'm useful yet!"

Maybe holding her breath was a bit much - would it give her away? Ichigo paused mid-step by the cellar-door ladder to gauge the reaction, to determine with certainty whether or not she had more convincing to do. Whether or not they would just let her go, no obstacle, no more time in this basement that suddenly felt suffocating...

"Good luck, na no da!" Pudding cheered enthusiastically, quickly relieving that tension that had gathered in Ichigo's chest. She smiled at the younger girl and glanced tentatively to Lettuce, whose brow was drawn in its usual state of concern. However, within a moment she was resigned, and offered Ichigo a hopeful smile in return.

"Just don't push yourself," She fretted, as usual, and Ichigo heartily promised she wouldn't. Then, looking back at the two one last time, she waved and climbed those steps with as much of a bounce as possible, unlocking the door and slipping out with minimal struggle.

Basked in the warm outside air, Ichigo breathed a sigh and let the camoflaged door slide shut as quietly as possible. And then, for just a moment, she knelt there, staring, any trace of smile or joy on her face wiped completely clean.

She looked both ways. Neither Mint nor Zakuro were nearby.

Slowly, carefully, she stood, overwhelmed by the silence and stillness. It was like the world was testing her - seeing if she could go through with it.

Ichigo hesitated.

But then the dread and panic seized her up once again, and she turned right around and ran.

Just ran.

* * *

Ryou gave Mizuki a strange look. "Why would... what are you trying to say?"

The way she looked at him back seemed to indicate a '_you know exactly what I'm trying to say' _sort of attitude. And maybe he did. Maybe he knew _exactly_ what she was trying to say. Maybe he knew exactly what his answer should have been.

But maybe he didn't. Maybe he had no idea. Him, the genius, the childhood prodigy, the creator of the Mew Project, lacked an answer. It was possible.

Or maybe he just didn't want to acknowledge what his answer would most certainly be.

"I'm just curious," Even though she visibly projected her doubt in his _confusion_, Mizuki explained herself in a painfully flat tone, letting her arms drop enough so she was simply touching his stiff arms with her fingertips, "You always seem more concerned - no, _fixated_ - on her than any one else. Even Midorikawa Lettuce, who holds you in very high regards, falls at least second to _her_." Mizuki seemed entirely disinterested in the subject, how ever much emphasis she seemed to put on it; her eyes were fixed not on his face, but his hands, no sign of warmth or ice in her expression at all. "So, I'll ask again - _what is she to you_?"

He stared at her, briefly, face frozen. Then he frowned. "That's not important right now. I--"

"I want to know."

The abruptness of her words and serious, _life-or-death­­­­_ nature of her voice only succeeded in shutting him up completely. Her face did not change, and she still did not look at him - only she was suddenly squeezing him again, clutching at his arms almost desperately.

"Please."

Ryou tried not to flinch.

"Ichigo is an important part of this project," He finally answered with some difficulty, completely deadpan in his delivery. Her grip did not let up this time, so he figured she needed something more solid. More definite.

The guy was just grabbing straws, here.

"But that doesn't mean she's any more important to me than any of the other girls."

That, on the other hand, seemed to satisfy her. He instantly felt her almost _bruising_ hold on his arms let up, and with that, she let go of him completely, leaving only a foot or so of space between them.

"Oh?" She responded quite softly, in a wispy, almost fragile voice. And though her head was still tilted downwards along with her gaze, Ryou was at least able to see the tiniest of smiles tug at her lips. This answer, apparently, pleased her. "Is that so..."

Unsure of what to follow that up with, Ryou could only stand there awkwardly - she seemed to be finished. Remembering what he'd intended to do in the first place, he straightened up and took advantage of his newfound freedom quickly. Just in case she decided to hold him hostage again, which he had no doubts now she was all too capable of doing.

"I'll be back in one second," Was the only excuse he could offer, what with the knot that had suddenly found a home in his throat. The blonde briskly walked past the silent machine, yanked the basement door open, and was just about to call out --

First, though, he saw Lettuce.

She was sitting where she was supposed to be sitting, and the computers were doing what they were supposed to be doing - but she was hunched over unusually with a perturbed frown on her face, fiddling almost frantically with some object. _Her walkie-talkie_, he realized after walking down two of the steps.

"What's up?" His voice brought her promptly to attention - the porpoise-girl immediately sat up, panic lighting her wide eyes right up.

Of course, this died down almost immediately as she registered who was talking to her.

"Ah," Shaking her head, she turned to send a worried glance down at her communication device, "It's just Mint, I'm having trouble getting ahold of her... since she was supposed to come back a few minutes ago, I was a little worried."

_Worried being an understatement,_ Ryou would have said, knowing Lettuce and all - but a much more important fact caught his attention first. He had been walking casually toward the two when he suddenly froze, alarm infecting his being rapidly.

"Where's Ichigo?"

Instead of appearing as startled as he was, Lettuce just glanced up with innocent confusion. "Hm? Didn't you tell her she could go on guard duty for a while?"

His heart stopped. Then came the anger.

A crackle blared from the device in Lettuce's hands so suddenly she nearly dropped it.

"Oh, so _that's_ how this thing works..."

"Mint-" Without warning, Ryou snatched the functioning walkie-talkie from a stunned Lettuce, "Mint, where is Ichigo?"

"Huh?" Her voice was somewhat muffled over the speaker, but she clearly sounded irritated, "How would I know?"

"Did she come out there?"

Even Pudding was able to recognize the urgency in Shirogane Ryou's voice.

"Ten, twenty minutes ago, maybe. But onee-sama let her back in to the lab - isn't she with Lettuce right now?"

The walkie-talkie clattered to the floor, followed by a few inaudible complaints from the other end about _'-loud noise, I was holding that right to my ear you know!'_. Ryou didn't seem to notice, and swiftly picked his own cellphone up from one of the desks.

Lettuce didn't move, appearing quite pale and tense, while Pudding quite cluelessly stared up at the man from her perch on a chair. "What's wrong, na no da?"

Cursing under his breath, Ryou flipped the phone open almost forcefully and started dialing. "That girl just can't stay still for _five minutes_, can she..."

* * *

She was running.

Running. Running.

And this time, she kept running.

And she wouldn't let anything stop her. Not today.

As Ichigo ran, she fought desperately against the heaviness of her feet and the ache of her chest and that stupid _image_ that was so permanently tattooed to her eyelids, taunting her with every step and every blink.

That image of Ryou holding Mizuki, Mizuki holding Ryou...

It was like she wasn't even there.

Kind of like that dream.

Like she wasn't supposed to _be_ there in the first place.

It went beyond simple jealousy - Ichigo was sure this intensity was nothing that petty. Something so... immature, so _childish_, wouldn't make her heart stutter and stop, her stomach completely sick, her head spin wildly and her whole body feel as if it was splitting clean in two, falling, smashing into the hideously jagged mirror that she'd been doomed to hit in that eerily _prophetic_ dream...

The wind tore at her skin, her face, her eyes, trying to force her back with its mighty blow, suffocating her the farther she went, screaming at her the faster she ran. The sidewalk pounded on her feet, her muscles burned, breathing hurt - she could feel her chest tighten and her throat close, and the inevitable tears scathing her eyes, making it near impossible to see, even if she knew exactly where she was going and how to get there.

At this point, maybe it didn't even matter. She just needed to get away.

_It was nothing so simple as jealousy._

It went beyond that, way beyond it - and this was a simple fact she realized at that vital, earth-shattering moment that had her running so hard right now and not stopping, never stopping.

_She was falling in love with Ryou._

The very thought made her want to collapse then and there and cry. Scream, shout, hit the ground, pull her hair out - there was no vent that could possibly exhaust this drowning sensation!

More than anything, it was painful. A floodgate of anger and misery and every negative emotion imagineable, surrounding her and chaining her to the ocean floor...

It had never been like that with Masaya. Not once. She'd followed him like a puppy, and the only emotions that ever seemed to plague her were of a gentle, dream-like quality, a regular fairy-tale tinged with just a little fear of an unrequited love -

- but _this_?

This absolute torture she was going through just couldn't be, _couldn't be--!_

She couldn't love him. Just couldn't.

After that little scenario - that, and everything else that suddenly made so much more sense put together - Ichigo knew Mizuki must have felt something for Ryou. No matter how impossible it seemed, she_ must _have. And Lettuce! What about her? Everyone had known she'd had a giant crush on Ryou back then... even oblivious little Ichigo.

How could she do this to everyone? To _herself_?

She couldn't stay. That was clear enough now. It would be bad for everyone if she did, especially her... especially Ryou. Just a few _seconds_ of a scene like that practically tore her up! How could she _possibly_ be of any use to him when she felt so hurt just thinking about it? How could she ever be in the same room as him when she _knew_?

If she could have helped it -- if she had a choice, Ichigo would have preferred to never know. To never think of Shirogane Ryou as anything more than _annoying old Shirogane Ryou_. That had been such a simple time... but it had been so long ago, so far back in her own memory, that she could barely even recall a time she'd been comfortable around him.

Now that she thought about it...

_Had_ there ever been a time...?

* * *

_Bounce. Bounce. _

The boy's dull eyes followed the path of the ball as it left his hand, ricocheted off the wall, hit the floor, and returned to its resting place in his palm. This repetitive motion -- _bounce, bounce_ -- had somehow kept him entertainted for the last hour. Maybe two. However long it had been since they'd arrived in this sorry little place.

"Hehh," At the small boy's noise of exhaustion, the taller one glanced over from the chair on which he was lounging, as if in muted hope - but, much to his disdain, the pause did not last, and the _bounce bounce_ cycle started all over again.

"Will you _quit_ it?"

Instead of landing, the ball deflected off a flat palm, and the boy watched boredly as it rolled to a gradual and silent stop. "But there's nothing to _do_ here," he complained, slumping back against a wall, "and the smell makes me sick."

At that, the man could only grunt. It was true; ever since she took off, it seemed their only job was to wait for her return... which was a chore in itself. This place was dark and cramped, which would have been fine - had it been anywhere else.

But this place...

He snarled.

This place was disgusting. For so many reasons.

The people who lived here - sorry, _had once lived_ here - hadn't changed a thing since... since then. The walls were stark grey, every window was boarded, the smell of rust and blood still lingered in the air... And it was repulsive. If he possessed such a sick desire, he was sure he could pinpoint the _exact location_ in this forsaken building where he had been "_born"_ -

"Where did Henrietta go, anyways?"

Drawn from his own train of thought by the boy's voice, he glanced passively in his direction. And gave a lazy shrug. "Who knows," With that effort spent, he turned back to look at the bolted-shut door, "All she said was 'I know that man's headquarters are around here somewhere.'"

What did it matter, anyway? As long as she came back soon. The boredom was killing him.

_...bounce. Bounce._

* * *

"Here you are," If the ticket had been counterfeit, Ichigo surely would never have noticed. By the time she'd even reached the train station - who knows when she decided on that destination - the girl had a hard time catching her breath and keeping from keeling over right there in public, but managed somehow. But from there on out, she was as good as a zombie - constantly bumping into people, walking with her head down, blank-faced and empty eyed and almost ill in appearence altogether.

Her once-wild heart felt kind of dead in her chest right now.

At the very least, she was glad (but how empty of happiness that word was now) she had been lucky enough to have that money stuffed in her pocket. By no means was it enough to go back to Italy - to her proper 'home' - but it was just enough for a ticket out of Tokyo, to somewhere far away from any of them, far away from her past and the memories she could no longer bear to be a part of.

"Thank you." Once she had the ticket, Ichigo stepped quietly out of line, finding a little nook in the crowd where she could think all to herself amid the chatter and clatter of machinery.

She'd go back to Italy as soon as possible. No doubt she would need to find a job, maybe two - maybe she'd even need to resort to calling her parents and begging for some extra money. But she would manage. The important thing was that she got _out_.

Contacting the others wasn't possible, of course. After all that... after running away, she had pretty much sealed her fate. It would be best if she left this important mission to them.

They were all strong enough to go on without her. They always had been - it was silly for her to have ever thought otherwise. Her leaving would only make things easier, after all. For everyone.

As she absently tucked her ticket into one pocket, she pulled her pink cellphone out of the other. _'4 Missed Calls',_ the front display screen informed her - instantly, she knew who they would have been from.

Ducking away from the crowd, Ichigo stared at the phone uselessly until she'd found herself a private alleyway that lead to a near-deserted, 'under construction' section of the station.

After several minutes, she cautiously flipped the phone open, the light of the screen flickering off her dulled amber eyes. Ichigo stared at it for a long time.

...should she at least call, after all? Just to let them know she was safe?

Her thumb hovered over the green 'call' button for a fleeting second.

_No._ No, of course not. If it was _him_ - he would and could convince her to come back in a matter of seconds. He'd done it before.

But this time, Ichigo would not budge. She had made her decision, and there was no turning back.

This was better for everyone.

_It really is... _Giving an exhale of mourning, she shut the phone right off and tucked it back into her pocket where it would sit in silence until they gave up in trying to contact her. _Better for everyone..._

"That was really stupid, you know," A voice chided from above.

* * *

"Dammit!"

Angrily throwing his phone down on the seat (admittedly, the force was a bit unnecessary), Ryou's hands returned to the wheel and he stared intensely at the road before him, knuckles white and teeth grinding.

He was not amused.

"I figured there was something strange when she climbed out of that window," Zakuro spoke from the backseat, as if to herself, as she stared out the car window in a _much_ more calm manner than the driver currently was, "But I didn't actually expect her to pull something like this again. With any luck, she's just found a good hiding spot in the backyard and they've found her al--"

"Lettuce and Mint would have called by now." He had pretty much snapped, more agitated than he'd been in days - months, even. In fact, if he had cared to think about it, Ryou would have realized he hadn't been this infuriated since the good old days when Mew Ichigo went throwing herself in front of aliens on a weekly basis!

Zakuro could only shrug in response, apparently not too set on breaking the force of Ryou's deadset focus.

"Uwah... Ichigo-oneechan keeps on running away, na no da..."

Poor Pudding was more distressed than panicked, and was pressed right up against the passenger seat's window hopefully, as if Ichigo would pop out from a bush any second now.

Any second now...

Ryou seemed content to be angrily muttering to himself at that moment, and it was inwardly decided by both girls to be a _good_ thing neither could hear what he was saying. In spite of her own hard eyes, Zakuro smirked.

"Well, I'll give her one thing - she definitely knows how to pick her mood swings... this is certainly not the time for this kind of thing." At that point, the muttering stopped, so Zakuro looked up at an otherwise unresponsive Ryou.

"Ryou, do you remember what I said about keeping your emotions out of this?" As far as she could tell, he was ignoring her, as he didn't say anything or react at all. Still, Zakuro had a sense some of what she said had to be getting through to him... he was too distraught to be completely ignorant.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against her palm and sat back, "Well, forget all of it. You need to find her."

* * *

Before Ichigo could even spin around to see the ominous figure perched on the top of a nearby wobbly ladder, it had... well, the figure was already on level ground, having made a soundless, perfect landing on the balls of her feet without even disturbing the ladder at all.

_Her_ feet. Before Ichigo's mind swirled into a panicked, confused and chaotic mess, she was at least able to register the fact that this thing - person? - was female. Small, but with clean-cut features and wild dark hair; dressed head to toe in black, and...

Ichigo's blood ran cold. This girl...

...had deep, dark _red_ eyes...

It was the same figure she had seen at the cafe, she realized. This petite little girl had been standing just feet away from her hours before, Ichigo was sure of it!

So why was she...?

A coy smile crossed the girl's lips, stopping Ichigo's thought process right where it was.

_It was terrifying_.

Quickly - out of instinct, out of fear - Ichigo stumbled backwards, losing her balance almost instantly and falling back with a _thud_. In that moment, the silent world shook all around her... she could only feel the scrapes on her hands beginning to sting, hear the sound of her cellphone knocked away from her pocket and across the brutal pavement...

"You were running awful fast, girlie," And the chilling voice, a half whisper, a half hum, brought her right back to reality with a pang. Suddenly, that girl was standing over her, looking down with a cocked head and a maddening grin, "You'd think something must have really _scared_ you back there."

Ichgio's heart jumped in a nauseating way. So it _was_ the same person. Meaning... they'd been following her?

She found herself unable to move. It was as if her muscles had seized up completely.

What was going on?

"You _wouldn't_ have figured something out you shouldn't have, hm? Been keeping up with the newspapers? The radio? Doing a little extra _homework_?" With glinting eyes, the tiny menace took one, two steps around Ichigo, like a vicious predator circling her prey. _Scream for help_, Ichigo thought dizzily, _there are people nearby. Lots of people._

But she couldn't say a word.

"Sorry," Not once looking away, the blood-eyed girl bent over ever-so-slightly, grinning from ear to ear as if to show she wasn't _sorry at all_, "But I really can't have you spreading any rumours. That would be a waste. Wouldn't want that thing to get out of control, y'know? Not when we're so... _close_..."

Ichigo didn't understand a word she was saying. Not a word.

But she knew something was wrong. She knew she was in danger.

And couldn't do anything about it...

With one more step, the girl was closing in. Unable to look away, Ichigo saw her teeth - sharp, unnaturally so - and the long, claw-like fingers sheathed in black leather gloves... that striking, almost violent look in those vibrant maroon eyes...

Her heart tangled in her throat.

Was she...

...going to die?

_No._ That couldn't happen. Not now. Not here! She would not have her body discovered in some corner of some under-construction train place. She would not _not_ live to see her twentieth birthday.

More than that - she refused to accept the idea that she would never see _them_ again. Ever.

Hadn't she decided she wouldn't be useless anymore?

Even if it was only a matter of saving her _own_ life, Ichigo would live up to that decision!

A rush of adrenaline restored her ability to move, and as the girl reached out to her, she swiftly brought up her leg and kicked the hand away.

A pendant materialized in her own hand.

"_Mew Mew Strawberry, Metamorphose!"_

And that warmth - that familiar, comforting, almost _inspiring_ warmth - spread through her body, embraced her completely, drawing forth strength and power that had become long forgotten to the young woman.

When the light faded, the warmth remained - and there stood Mew Ichigo, in all her cat-self glory.

And the red-eyed girl could only stand there, staring with wide, shocked eyes, her previously smiling lips parted in awe. As Ichigo took several swift steps back to create distance between them, the other simply watched in amazement. "You're... part of that _Project_?" The way she said 'Project' was with such disgust, such disdain, that it collided completely with the fascination that preceded it.

Ichigo breathlessly wondered if she was talking about the 'Mew Project'. How would she...? And it then occured to her, soon after, that this threatening stranger had followed her under the assumption she was just a _normal girl_. A normal girl who had caught her 'scoping out' a normal cafe...

This idea startled her. Did that mean...?

Slowly, confidently, that grin returned to the girl's small lips. "Ah. Well, _now_ it's interesting..."

Snapping out of it, Ichigo thrust her hand forward, gloved palm outstretched. "_Strawbe_--"

Before she could even complete the call - even the first word - the wind was knocked out of her as she was tackled, _hard_, thrown back against a metallic pillar. As she slunk feebly down to the ground, Ichigo could faintly see a gash in her side - and dizzily attempted to touch it, to assess the damage.

_No time_. When she snapped her head up once more, the catgirl saw the other girl - this _inhuman_ girl - crouched down on all fours, black hair strewn across her face with an almost animalistic expression.

"Sorry, girlie," Barely even out of breath, she began straightening up - and, in defense, Ichigo attempted the same. A boot connected with her knees at an incredible speed, knocking her down to the ground again with force.

Pain shot through every inch of her body as she lay sprawled there like a rag doll.

"What's so special about you, anyways?" Mew Ichigo glanced up in response, vision blurry, as the dark figure calmly took a few steps closer. Making a weak noise in protest, she attempted to writhe away, but a dull heel slammed down to pin her fingers.

"I would have expected a bit more from the 'Originals'... your technology must be outdated or something..." Helplessly, Ichigo could only struggle to keep breathing as the small, powerful girl continued to speak in that sedated, malicious tone, bending over once she was close enough to grasp the catgirl's face in her bony gloved hands.

_I won't die..._ Ichigo tried to resist, to pull away, _I won't die...!_

And yet, she was helpless again. Every part of her ached. She wasn't used to this form yet, could barely even muster up that warmth again to fuel and protect her...!

She could just stare back into those blood red eyes and wait.

For a moment, there was silence, as if in consideration of mercy. Then, the girl bared her gleaming teeth once more. "Shame, really."

In one second, the grip on Ichigo's head tightened, and she was thrown to the ground with enough force to knock her almost completely senseless. Jumbled thoughts of panic and fear, _fight or flight_, dying and surviving plagued her, leaving her transformed state to dissolve in a flash, dooming regular little Ichigo to lay limp against the cement without a hope.

_No..! _Ragged breathing and a hammering heart kept Ichigo from hearing anything, any other words her attacker might have said, any other sounds around her - all she knew was that there was suddenly a pair of cold, strong hands around her throat, pressing with a steadily increasing pressure. _I want to see them again... Lettuce, Mint, Pudding, Zakuro... Shirogane...!_

Her eyes fluttered open and she was only able to stare pleadingly into the cold, uncaring face of the inhuman girl above her.

Her lips began to move, as if forming the word '_Goodbye'_, just as that fatal amount of pressure was applied - only, before the black-clad girl could complete it, one of her arms was forcibly jerked back and away from the redhead. The rest of her body followed.

Ichigo gasped, air rushing desperately to her lungs, and she gagged somewhat from the pent-up terror that had seized her. Then, realizing she may not yet be out of danger, she struggled to sit up, and froze at what she saw before her.

_Mizuki_.

Only... only, she was different. Gone was the maid outfit and the braids; long lilac hair swirled around her fire-lit face in anger, her lithe body twisting around in a bodysuit-type uniform that covered her from shoulders to upper thighs. In awe, Ichigo's amber eyes trailed down to where the the dangerous girl now lay, scowling up in menace at the robot who stood almost triumphantly above.

"Pah," Rising up again with ease, the child-like figure stumbled back, wiping what looked like blood off her own cheek, "You're a fool, coming out in the open like this--!"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Mizuki's voice was colder than Ichigo had ever heard it before. Colder, and more fierce... "Still, you are doubting my capabilities. I am perfectly able to defend myself, regardless of what you may think."

Both parties were flaring. It would have been amazing, had it not been so downright _terrifying_; Ichigo couldn't pull her eyes away from the silent conflict that seemed to snap between the two in a fury of ice and fire. The tension was almost hypnotic...

After this invisible battle of wills continued for several moments, the small girl smiled. "It's still a mistake," Her tone was far too joyous; it made Ichigo shiver, "_We'll_ find you before you have a chance to regret it."

And with that, the movement of her feet was a blur; the red-eyed 'creature' leapt back, up, disappearing into the rafters.

Mizuki may no attempt to stop her. Instead, she merely stood her ground, before relaxing somewhat she turned to Ichigo.

"Are you alright?"

This startled her significantly - perhaps her nerves were still rattled from that entire experience. "Y...yeah. Sort of. I think now I'm..." Since she failed at making sense, Ichigo just looked down to the wound she had in her side. It was much smaller than it had at first seemed - then again, that mesmerizing horror that had clenched her heart had the greatest impact on her. Now that she could breath (mostly) without fear, she found the strength to speak, move... and stand. Albeit, a bit wobbily, but still.

Mizuki quickly stepped forward to support her. As Ichigo turned to face her saviour, she noticed an angry passion still glowing from her perfect face, a slight shake in her smooth, usually calm hands. For a moment, she could only look at the 'machine' in awe; was this her transformation? No additional ears, tails, claws... just a simple battle suit and free-flowing hair...

"How did you...?"

Ichigo meant so many different things by that question, but Mizuki chose to answer only one. "They're all out looking for you right now." Her voice, the redhead noticed, was becoming considerably more calm, "You didn't expect them to simply sit around once they found out you were missing, did you?"

Embarassed, Ichigo averted her gaze, staring uncomfortably down at the ground.

"I'm the only one who was actually able to track you, though," Mizuki continued, almost quietly, when the other did not reply, "Based on the location of your cellphone."

Ichigo looked up, then, at the pink little cellular that lay pathetically several feet away. The screen was cracked right down the center.

"I nearly lost the signal near the end," She continued to speak, even when Ichigo slipped away in order to limp towards her dead little device, "So it's fortunate that _she_ didn't find you sooner."

Just as she was bending over to pick it up off the ground, Ichigo froze, and turned to stare at Mizuki again. The mere mental visual of that girl and her stark-lit red eyes made her heart stutter. "_She_... does that mean she was from...?"

Her own throat seemed to tighten at the word.

"SQUAD?" Mizuki finished for her, and after the terror in Ichigo's eyes pointed to the affirmative, the robot nodded. "Yes. I am 98 confident, especially after that short conversation you witnessed." A deep frown etched itself on her porcelain features. "She should not have arrived here for at least another hour, however, even in a best case scenario."

As she took her cell gently into her hands, Ichigo remembered the fear that had gripped her, and squeezed it tightly. Being pushed, hit, kicked, nearly _strangled_ to death... what if Mizuki had not shown up when she had? Where would Ichigo be now? _Dead_? Left out on the train tracks until some unlucky construction worker discovered her? Mutilated to the point of being unidentified...?

She shivered at the thought.

In the end - even after all that determination, all that talk - Ichigo still could not defend herself.

She had been as good as dead.

"So?"

Jumping a bit at the loudness of her voice, Ichigo turned to face Mizuki, who had yet to move an inch. She simply stared back with piercing blue eyes that left the redhead feeling cold.

Silence invaded the space between them for seconds. Minutes. Then, the robot delivered the words that Ichigo hadn't even wanted to consider yet...

"What are you going to do now?"

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down._


	8. Glitch O1

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter eight**;_ Glitch O1_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in._

* * *

"Wh..." Cold fingers clutched helplessly at the cold, lightless cellphone in her hand, as if an answer would magically appear - "What... do you mean?"

Mizuki, courteous as usual, chose to ignore the question.

Instead, she stared back at the battered redhead, pityless and proper.

"There are only so many options," Bland, disinterest, indifference - it made Ichigo wonder why she was so threatened by the robot woman's tone, "You must know by now whether you plan on going or staying."

_Oh_. Well, obviously. Funny story, really - _she didn't._

But for the sake of appearences, she turned away and stared inquisitively at her phone (maybe still hoping a _tiny bit_ for that answer), as if contemplating how to 'break the news'. Leave her with a shred of a Young Adult's Dignity before she went off wherever it was she was going to go.

"I-"

What? Am meeting with my secret Italian lover, we're going to elope? Am dying of a disease and want to visit my family _one last time_? Am sick of _you_ and your _amazing abilities_ and that _dumb monotone voice you insist on always speaking in?_

"-don't know," she murmured pathetically, sending a tentative glance over her shoulder at the towering fighting-machine that stood there.

Much to her dismay, Mizuki did not look surprised. At all.

Ichigo was forced to suffer in the suspended humiliation until Mizuki finally responded - by turning to face the opposite direction herself. Having that ice-laden gaze off her did not, as hoped, make her feel any more comfortable.

Or any less in pain, she realized faintly, noticing the blood seeping through her scraped palms.

"You bought a train ticket," But those words, for some strange reason, made Ichigo flinch more than any of her wounds currently could. That slip of paper suddenly felt as if it were burning a hole in her pocket. "You made up your mind once; my saving you shouldn't have changed anything at all."

For a second, Ichigo was silent. And then, tucking her useless cell back into her pocket, she stood up straight with great difficulty.

_I don't know_. That uncertainty drowned her like nothing else. She _had_ made up her mind, after all, hadn't she? Ichigo had known, known _full well_ that there was no turning back.

Mizuki was right. That shouldn't have changed. That _didn't_ change.

But when she opened her mouth, she couldn't say '_I'm going to catch my train now, say goodbye to everyone for me_'.

And she didn't know why.

It had to be the attack, didn't it? Being on the verge of death... that was a good excuse to be suddenly and inexplicably confused, right?

Wasn't it?

As if against her own will, Ichigo's eyes turned up to Mizuki. _Pleading_. Without even thinking about it.

She interpreted it right away, as always, without even a second glance. "If you want me to to convince you to come back - I won't." With unedged grace, that artificial woman - who had, just minutes ago, taken down a small killer - took only a few steps over to a mound of clothing on the ground. From it, she pulled her dress - sans the buckles, Ichigo noticed almost curiously. Her boots were there, too, discarded carelessly by a strange pile of metal shards - "You must have figured out by now that my preference is for you to go wherever you were planning to go. So if you were falling back on my opinion - there it is."

That, effectively, distracted her from the odd sight of Mizuki examining the fine fabric. But instead of feeling hurt or offended, Ichigo could only accept it.

"Ah. R...right."

Mizuki hated her. However much she insisted she had no _emotion_ to hate with, Ichigo could see it clearly, hear it loudly.

Which was why the redhead surprised herself by digging a deeper ditch: "Why did you save me?"

Instantly, she wondered if she actually wanted to hear the answer.

With that, Mizuki stood up, shook the dress out, and very professionally pulled it up over her bodysuit-clad body. "Shirogane-sama would be 'sad' if he found out you had died."

And that, for some bizarre reason, made Ichigo's startled heart catch in her throat. "Why-" She forced it back down to repair the scraggled voice, "-do you think that?"

One arm through one sleeve, one through the other. "I was under the assumption that 'sadness' is how a human reacts to a death. Aren't I correct?"

Right. Of course. That was enough to make her pulse go steady once more, leaving her feeling quivery and exposed. She almost laughed at herself and quickly ducked her head. What, had she expected to hear something else? _Stupid._

Gracefully, Mizuki smoothed the dress out, reaching back to align the edges that remained open in the back. "But if you just went somewhere, he would simply be 'angry'. 'Angry' would be less damaging than 'sad'." There was an expectant pause in her movements. "If you choose to leave, I can easily explain that I saw you board the train but arrived too late to stop it."

Ichigo considered this. She... really _shouldn't_ be changing her resolve, not when she had caused everyone else so much trouble already. That was the point of this, wasn't it? To make everyone's lives a lot easier? If she came running back with her tail between her legs, wouldn't that just cause more problems?

"That..." But her mind was still in chaos. Thoughts weren't thinking themselves. Words weren't working properly. Everything was everywhere.

As she adjusted her dress and started to pull on the boots, Mizuki offered Ichigo a sidelong, skeptical glance. "Either way, I will not attempt to influence you. Now that you have officially met SQUAD, you should be able to make an informed decision on your own."

The mention of that group - and by association, that _girl_ - startled Ichigo. And all of a sudden, the experience came rushing back to her: the fear, the helplessness, the way the whole world turned cold and bleak and unfeeling in that one moment... her small glinting teeth, that animalistic posture, those blood red eyes that seemed to be stained with souls...

"Mizuki, is SQUAD very... very strong?"

It seemed no less silly coming out of her mouth than it had seemed the first time. But Mizuki didn't seem bothered at all; rather, she just stood there, looking blankly down at her own clothing. Faintly, Ichigo realized that the woman was fully dressed, but both her dress and boots lacked any of those strange buckles sealing them shut.

"Yes," Her voice was strangely focused, concentrated, "The research I have gathered on them indicates they possess extraordinary strength, at the bare minimum. The fact that they are related to several homicides points to the same conclusion. And," She had to compose herself, it seemed, in order to admit this - "their early arrival time indicates a severe underestimation of that strength, even on my part."

A shiver paralyzed Ichigo completely.

She didn't want to imagine it. Pudding, Mint, Lettuce, Zakuro - all put in her shoes, confronted by that same girl, cut off from the world and alone. Imagine the fear in their eyes when she went in for the first blow, their forms crumpled on the ground, blood staining the cement below as the small SQUAD creature stood menacingly over them...

Ichigo's hand flew over her mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut. _No_. That would never happen, it couldn't! They weren't as weak as her... they would be able to save their own lives. They were stronger than her. They could survive -

- couldn't they?

But that visual suddenly became imprinted on her brain, replaying relentlessly, reminding her of the danger they were all faced with. It left her nauseous, breathless.

...and she would be sitting in a hotel somewhere, safe, out of trouble, none the wiser...

As Ichigo mulled to herself, tendrils of Mizuki's flowing hair began to stir, to twist fluidly into the usual pair of braids, each strand moving as a seperate entity. The redhead remained too distracted and distraught to really notice.

"SQUAD is... here," Instead of keeping it all in her overflowing head, Ichigo sounded out the situation aloud. With an upward glance, Mizuki nodded; Ichigo felt her jaw tense. "That girl - she saw me at the cafe. Now she knows that I'm a Mew. She'll make that connection, and target the cafe--"

"There is a good chance, yes." Mizuki's eyes remained focused on the overwhelmed Ichigo, who looked like she could scream, collapse or burst into tears at any moment.

Ill. Ill, ill, ill.

Even if they were stronger than her, braver than her - every one of them - her being back in Italy, living a carefree life of ice cream and family feuding, while everyone else was forced to face this absolute terror...

She couldn't do it. She had to - no, _wanted _to - protect them, keep them safe, preserve those brilliant smiles. With all of her heart.

That answered the question then, didn't it?

Ichigo couldn't believe she'd wasted so much time over something so obvious!

But just as she opened her mouth, an otherworldly glow surrounded Mizuki, her ice blue eyes glazing over; from her back and calves, metal seemed to melt out from the skin, to simmer out from the ends of her braids, cooling slowly to neatly seal the clothing back up and keep the hair tied.

With a slack jaw, Ichigo watched, awe and confusion betrayed by her eyes.

Within a matter of seconds, the glow faded, and Mizuki was facing Ichigo once more - completely dressed, completely buckled. Completely the way Ichigo had seen her when they'd first met.

_Would all passengers on the Tokyo-Yokohama route please board immediately,_ An indifferent voice chided over the loudspeakers, _The train will be leaving shortly. All Tokyo-Yokohama passengers please board immediately, thank you._

"Momomiya Ichigo," Facing the girl straight-on, Mizuki once more posed the million-dollar question, "What is your decision?"

For a moment, she was afraid her voice would abandon her again. But sure enough, Ichigo found it - and her hands, which had been shaking just moments before, were strangely sedate as a resolved sort of calm overtook her.

"I'm coming home," Ichigo said, and smiled.

* * *

On the other hand, she hadn't considered the silence that would follow, and how it would be nearly enough to make her reconsider.

Not that it did. But as the two walked, side by side, in complete and utter _awkward silence_, Ichigo was overcome by the overwhelming urge to make up some terribly lame excuse and find a coffee shop to sulk in somewhere.

Of course... there was that brand-new, ever-lurking possibility that she could be _brutally attacked_ on moment's notice...

Shaking that thought away completely, the redhead glanced timidly at the one walking alongside her - admiring the grace and poise with which she managed to carry out every step. Looking quickly down at her own feet, Ichigo tried to imagine what it would be like if she could walk like that.

She tried it.

It became apparent that Ichigo's version of a grace-walk was more of an ostrich strut, so she quit while she was behind and silently hoped Mizuki hadn't noticed.

_It's not like,_ Ichigo thought with a bit of a pouty undertone, _it really matters what she thinks of me..._

Now that she thought about it, this was the first time she had actually been alone with Mizuki for more than just a minute or two... which didn't help the situation at all. It was as if that little fact added significant weight to her incapable little shoulders...!

_Think_. Nearly breaking a sweat from the stress of it all, Ichigo tried to ease herself away from the edge and back into a 'Comfort Mode'; anything other than silence would be fine, anything-!

"Thanks again," she said finally, in a feeble and regrettably meek voice, "I... know you don't like me that much, so saving me like that must have really been--"

"This has nothing to do with 'like' or 'dislike'," Mizuki argued clinically, catching Ichigo just a smidge off-guard as always, "You should understand that by now. It is just as Shirogane-sama said - " And as she delivered this quote, she closed her eyes and tilted her chin with a professional air, "'_Ichigo is an important part of this project._'"

_...Huh?_

That was weird. What the hell was that little flutter in her chest?

Because she imagined Shirogane Ryou saying it--

--in a voice that sounded kind of--

Nope. That wasn't it. Ichigo dismissed it entirely, laughing it off with great effort.

"Oh, really? So he said something like that..."

"But don't misunderstand," ...She always had to deliver that little kill-line, didn't she? And with such a plastic smile, too. Ichigo could feel her heart dropping even before Mizuki finished the sentence. "'_That doesn't mean she's anymore important to me than any of the other girls_.' He said that, too."

Yeah. Of course he would. That bitter taste in her mouth became unbearable, but not for that reason.

Because it's not like she expected him to place any special _value_ on her or anything.

It's not like she wanted him to, either.

None of that.

She was perfectly fine - even going back now - even just being '_part of the team_'. That was the way it was supposed to be. No issues there.

None...

"Don't think that continuing to take off for attention will result in you always being rescued by someone." The bitter edge that seeped through Mizuki's words didn't seem to help Ichigo's dampened spirits at all.

Just as she thought. Mizuki didn't like her at all. _Oh well, I guess..?_

"Yeah, I know," Ichigo mumbled, bobbing her head absently.

At least now she had the most important factor reinforced - that she was not special, or privelaged, and should act accordingly. That shouldn't be too hard, right?

After all, her going back had nothing to do with seeing Shirogane Ryou again.

Nothing at all.

For the rest of the walk, she accepted the silence, content to wander down the streets without a single thought passing her lips.

She almost didn't notice when they reached the Cafe. In fact, Ichigo probably would have kept walking - had Mizuki not stopped, turned, and cut her right off in order to turn onto the main building's pathway.

_Oh_. Almost as if she hadn't been prepared to see the place yet, Ichigo went rigid. Home. Home. This was home. From now on, she had to stay here. She had to stay here and protect everyone inside --

-- but that lump in her throat and the burning of her eyes didn't seem to want to go away.

Damn. She didn't want to go inside. She didn't want to have to pretend nothing was wrong, and most of all she did _not want to have to see a certain someone..._

Although, as she dragged herself down the path after Mizuki, she saw Mint standing just ahead and that was enough to distract her from All Signs of Impending Doom.

Mostly because the young woman, who had been absently adjusting her own hair, suddenly froze with a death glare in Ichigo's direction.

"_You're alive_?" Mint said. Loudly.

Ichigo felt very appreciated at that moment, really, she did.

And by the time she'd come within a few feet of the dark-haired primadonna, Ichigo barely had any of that loathed '_silence'_ to fuel up a single independant thought process.

"Mizuki was the one who found you, huh? That's too bad, I guess it's a good thing that Lettuce didn't agree to bet with me who'd come dragging you back. I would have said it would be Ryou, since that boy seems so set on being a hero lately - oh, God, is that _blood_? Your hands! What happened? You're--"

At some point, the redhead just stopped paying attention, feeling sort of as if she were a mannequin being plucked and prodded at, without a will or reason to pluck or prod back. Words went in one ear, leaked unfiltered through the other; everything that flashed in front of her eyes did so as if in a bad-reception channel; even the pain from her untreated wounds being touched only registered with half of her brain. At one point, Mint practically dragged her over toward the hidden door where a very unhelpful Mizuki had ended up - while making a phone call, maybe? - and it must have been at that point Lettuce came around the corner, throwing in her own end of the shock by freaking out and fussing in a way that could only be described as very _Lettuce-esque_.

It was such a weird sensation. Like, even after all her efforts, she wasn't even really there.

She had a goal, she knew that. She had something to protect.

But it was so hard to focus on that when she felt so incredibly and undeniably _blank_.

_Should I be here?_

There was some fussing that went on around her, some chatter, a quick shove down the stairs - some cleaning, some stinging, some bandaging, some aimless wandering.

_Should I really be here?_

When Ichigo _'came to'_ again, she was sitting on one of the chairs upstairs, Lettuce sitting across from her, more concerned than usual.

"Ichigo-san..." She trailed off, unsure of what to say - eyes fixating on Ichigo's taped-up hands. Elbows. Knees. Forehead.

It's not like she could lie about all this or anything.

So, very quietly, Ichigo explained the whole situation. What had happened at the train station. Even the whole running away bit.

She didn't miss the hurt that flashed in Lettuce's eyes. She felt it in her own chest.

"So... SQUAD really is here, after all," The fear tinging the meek girl's voice gave a violent tug at Ichigo's rattled heartstrings. That was exactly the sound she wanted to avoid hearing. And still she was unable to do a thing. With a shaky sigh, the green-haired girl turned to look out the barred-up windows. "I can't believe this is actually happening... how... how many are there?"

Ichigo weakly shook her head. "I only -- 'met' one of them. But if there are more, like Mizuki seems to think, they're probably already here, too..."

Which left her to wonder. What exactly were they up against, here? Was that little girl the worst of them? Or were they supposed to expect an entire army of _creatures_ like her to show up and initiate an ambush?

Visions of her friends engulfed in terror danced through her head.

It was enough to make Ichigo sit up, turn to Lettuce with worried eyes. Panic began to settle at the pit of her stomach. _This is actually happening. They're actually going to come. We're actually going to have to fight, and--_

"...He was really worried, you know."

Panic evaporated. Her chest suddenly felt empty, knowing exactly who the 'he' they were talking about was.

Ichigo didn't want to hear it.

But she kept listening.

A bit of an anxious smile graced Lettuce's pale face. "Ahh, it was a little bit scary, actually. I don't think I've ever seen Shirogane-san so angry before..."

As jokingly as that little detail was delivered, that panic condensed from the air into heavy guilt that unloaded right onto her weak shoulders. Ryou was angry. Ryou had every right to be angry.

But the thought just made her empty chest feel a lot colder.

Looking awkwardly off to the side, Ichigo could barely muster the energy to mumble a reply.

But Lettuce just went on-- "But he'll be very relieved to know you're okay. He really cares about you a lot--"

"It's not just me," Ichigo nearly snapped. Lettuce's mouth stopped in surprise. For a second, Ichigo forced herself to pause, to remain composed - even when her heart suddenly felt as if it were made of lead, she smiled meekly across at her friend. "He would have acted the same way if any of you were in my situation, running off like that. I'm just the only one actually stupid enough to do it..."

She laughed a little at herself. God, wasn't that right! The rest of them had grown up, matured, and she was still stuck _running away_. How unbelievably pathetic.

Speechless, Lettuce could only stare at Ichigo with wide, puzzled eyes. In a moment of in-between silence, she seemed to be searching the injured girl's face, trying to discover if she really believed what her own lips were saying--

"Ichigo-san..." She started awkwardly, but Ichigo just lowered her gaze to the ground, refusing to make eye contact. Just then, there was a muffled, aggrivated shout from downstairs - from Mint, she figured out quickly.

Her patience had to be wearing thin. Just like the rest of them.

"_Lettuce! Ichigo!_ Get down here right now!"

Hesitantly, Lettuce rose, turning to glance at Ichigo, who was attempting to stand up. "Ah - you stay up here, Ichigo-san." Lettuce kept Ichigo seated with a gentle hand on her shoulder, an encouraging smile on her angelic face, "I'll deal with Mint for now - you just get some rest, okay?"

Ichigo didn't say anything.

Just watched as her friend wafted across the room and disappeared behind that door, leaving her all alone in that big, empty, cold lobby.

_Tick. Tick_. The clock on the wall marked the time that inched slowly on by.

Ichigo slunk back down in her chair, energy draining out of her right into the floor. "So that's it..." She murmured, that tight, constricting feeling returning to her chest. It was crushing her.

It couldn't just be Ryou. The rest of them had to be angry, too - even Lettuce. After all, by running away she had pretty much flashed a huge, neon '_Screw You'_ in their faces - abandoned them in the midst of her own cowardice.

Selfishness.

Why was she such a child?

Half-expecting Mint to come through wielding stakes and torches, Ichigo stared at that unmoving door for several seconds.

And then, quietly, she pulled her lifeless cellphone back out from her pocket again, observing it close up for no particular reason at all. Except for the fact that it was absolutely beyond repair - kind of like the current situation she was in. Unforgiveable.

As she turned it on its side, Ichigo noticed her void little train ticket sticking out from the middle. Her grip tightened a little. The departure time was printed, in a neatly typed font, to have been twenty minutes ago - according to the clock on the wall, at least. _Tick_.

If Mizuki hadn't saved her --

No, if that SQUAD girl had never shown up, Ichigo would be gone by now.

Sitting on that train, staring out the window, never given the temptation nor the opportunity to turn back...

Would it have been better, after all?

The buzz of inaudible chatter drifted up from beyond the floorboards.

Hanging her head, Ichigo felt, quite pointedly, like she was choking. That crushing sensation only seemed to intensify, leaving her practically curled up on that chair, alone, abandoned - a pressure was created behind her eyes, and she could barely restrain herself from bursting into tears then and there.

She only wanted to help everyone. She just wanted everyone to be happy.

But it was so hard to know, even now, if that would happen _with_ or _without_ her there.

Because in honesty, right now, it was looking like she really was just a burden.

Now that she really thought about it... really considered everything... had she ever been any help at all?

To anyone?

_Sorry..._ With a shaking hand, she covered her eyes as a meager attempt to keep tears from spilling over. Crying wouldn't help anyone, either. What was she supposed to do...?

_I'm sorry..._

Just then, the door slammed open.

It literally had just about enough force to shake the floor, the walls, her chair - Ichigo definitely felt it.

And by the time she snapped her head up to see who it was, she could barely stop shaking, herself.

"Sh..." Her heart sputtered pathetically at the sight of him, leaving her temporarily frozen. Through blurred, tear-filled eyes, she could see Shirogane Ryou's outline, his stance, his shoulders moving breathlessly--

Emotions pounded at her mental floodgate.

This was -- and she couldn't even begin to exaggerate this -- the _last person on earth_ she wanted to see right now.

_And the first_. But that thought was snuffed out the instant she blinked and the tears disappeared - the instant she could clearly see the details of Ryou and his face.

Every muscle in her body went tense.

_Sheer anger_. It was enough to make her surroundings go wintry, to freeze her up from the inside out. Fury. She had never seen him like this, not even when they were constantly fighting five years ago - that had been teasing, playful, harmless, a simple game of irritation.

No, right now he was _mad_.

That ice disappeared from her veins and she stood up, fast, chair clattering aside and her cellphone dropping to the floor with a heavy _thunk_. Ticket and all.

Ryou didn't miss this. The sight of the insignificant piece of paper seemed to only light up a flame behind his chilling blue eyes.

"What," He demanded, taking a forceful step forward and slamming the door shut behind him, "were you thinking?"

Instinctively, Ichigo hopped back, nearly tumbling right over her overturned chair in the process.

"I--I didn't-" Her mouth was completely dry and useless as she struggled to retort, like she usually would. To make him seem a little less dangerous, a little more like the brash, spontaneous teenager that would have _never_ stared her down like this before - so intensely that it was nearly suffocating.

She was so fixated on his infuriation, she was beginning to feel light headed.

Another step. "Did you think all this was just a joke? That you can pull stunts like these whenever you so have a _whim_? That the rest of us are just supposed to laugh and play along?"

...There wasn't going to be a magic answer to those questions, was there?

Continuing her retreat, Ichigo felt as if the flaming air flaring off the man was pushing her back and burning her up at the same time. Dear god, what if he had a knife in his back pocket or something? Her heart continued to assault her poor, frail ribs as she fought to bring her voice back to life.

Dead. Dead. She was so, _so_ dead.

"You... had everything under control, didn't you? It's not like you needed me--"

_Crash_. This only made him angrier, as apparent by the strength with which he shoved an innocent chair aside and out of the way - and he started taking bigger strides, ones that Ichigo could barely match in her cowardly skitter backwards.

"A-and," She stammered in a hurry, groping for any words that would quell his rage, "Mizuki's still here, isn't she? She's gotta be way more capable at this kind of thing than I ever would be, and b-besides, she even said--" With this stupid turn of her 'rebuttal', Ichigo pretty much sealed her death sentence, "--she even said that you said I wasn't more important than any of the other girls, so it's fine, right?"

For a blissful second, he thought that stopped him.

But all it really did was push him to make his steps more deliberate, more strong, more _fierce_.

Dammit.

"So that's what you think of me?" Dangerously, Ryou's voice suddenly became very low, like a sharp, harsh whisper, "Everything I said to you was just cheap talk then, huh?"

For a moment, that conversation in the rain flashed by Ichigo's mind's eye, and her mouth dropped open slightly. _Oh_.

It was incredibly hard to breath. Ichigo felt, at that moment, like a helpless mouse, edging away from the hissing cat and towards a ferocious trap, unable to run or hold up against the spring, and, _snap_ - "I'm sorry," she said pathetically, a last resort.

It did not calm him.

By this point, she didn't expect it to.

Two steps towards, two steps away - no, one-and-a-half, and Ichigo backed smack up against the wall.

Cornered.

Her throat constricted in terror. Ichigo made a meek, fruitless attempt to disappear into the walls, as if she could melt through them, maybe just evaporate away so she didn't have to stare at the horrifying fire in Shirogane Ryou's eyes--

"I'm sorr--"

Hands slammed on either side of the head, jolting her and sending her entire body into a rigid, paralyzed mess. Ryou stood just a foot away from her, bending over to stare her level in the eye.

She was gonna die.

"Do you have any idea," The feel of his breath made her dizzy, the heat coming off his skin was intoxicating -- no, what the hell! He was a Witch, making her weak like this so he could stab her in the eye without a struggle -- "what it would _do_ to me if something happened to you?"

He looked like he could hit, slap, _strangle_ her at any given moment. Shove her down, kick her in the face, smack her skull with a club, yell at her 'til all her brains fell out. In fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if he pulled out some lighter fluid and set her aflame right then and there.

But he kissed her.

Instead.

Wuh..

_What?_

Electrocution. Absolute electrocution. Nerves were fried, brain shot, heart stopped - _what?_

"Mmp--" With that dying noise of protest, Ichigo realized her breathing had quit, too. Slowly, her sight returned, gradually fizzling back in the absolute mush her brain had turned to - and when it did, she could all too clearly see his face, eyelashes, lips...

She would have gasped, but it was impossible - Ichigo was smothered.

_What the hell!_

Heat rushed to her face as she became aware of the empassioned, almost forceful movement of his lips against hers. Her head was pressed right against the wall, so even as she tried to inch away, it wasn't possible--

_Why was he __kissing her__?_

Head swimming, knees shaking, eyes watering - she squeezed them tightly shut so she didn't have to see, as if that would suddenly stop it from happening.

She couldn't move.

_Ryou... Ryou was--_

And just then, her emotional floodgate came loose. All the anger, fear frustration, misery, joy that had been pounding against the door suddenly came pouring through, plaguing and overwhelming and wrapping her right up until she felt like she was drowning--

Ryou. _Ryou._ That blonde, teenaged, stuck-up genius who poked fun at her and prodded constantly at her self esteem, who constantly mocked and belittled and teased, who she had become convinced on many occasions to have _hated_ her -- was kissing her. Kissing. _Her_.

Ichigo struggled, pressing her own palms against the unmoveable wall, willing it to collapse behind her. She didn't...

...want this?

Was that true?

Her suffocating heart gave a stuttered _thump_.

She...

...loved...

_He's warm,_ she thought vaguely, muscles gradually relaxing, heart slowly thrumming back to life. The storming waters steadied, plateaued, gradually stirring from the warmth of the sun. And she opened her eyes, just slightly, to look at his face.

He really was beautiful. And the anger that had once etched his expression was fading into a soothing gentleness...

Her heart started hammering almost violently in her chest again, strangely putting her at ease.

'_That doesn't mean she's any more important to me than any of the other girls_.'

She didn't want to be like all the others, she realized. Now more than ever - no matter how much she had tried to run away from it - Ichigo ached to be special to him. She felt it, right from the her tingling fingers to the numb tips of her toes...

And before she fully realized what was happening, her lips were softly moving back.

Not that she knew why. She didn't. She didn't know anything. Her mind shut down completely and that all-consuming flurry of emotion took over, leading her blindly into the electricity of his touch.

He noticed. For a split second, he stopped, hesitated, surprised by her movement - and then he responded by leaning into her, deepening the kiss --

-- she felt like she was melting, falling away --

-- all that existed to her at that moment was Ryou, his warmth, his smell, his touch.

With the edge of her remaining awareness, she felt him slowly lift his left hand off the wall, bring it over to delicately brush the back of his fingertips against her cheek...

_Click_.

And, right then, she didn't know if it was the noise or the sudden touch that startled her, sent a jolt through her, made her painfully alert once more - but she came to as if having been violently from a Sleeping Beauty snooze.

Fear, of all things, clutched at her. Squeezed the 'passion', or whatever it was, right out of her system.

_No_.

No longer confined, Ichigo's eyes snapped open and she immediately ducked to her right, forcefully breaking the kiss' contact. Her weak knees made it impossible not to stumble as she took a gasp of air, one hand slamming across the wall for guidance, the other flying right to her mouth.

Which suddenly felt as if it was burning.

Panic crawled up in her.

And she just got as far away as she could in that one stumble, practically throwing herself against a structure beam for support. Breathless and rattled, she tried to gather up her senses, tried to look up and decide whether she'd just imagined the whole thing or if she really had been--

Ichigo froze. Ryou was still standing there, not having moved an inch - right palm still digging into the empty wall, other hand suspended in mid air, eyes fixed on the spot where she had been standing, cornered, just moments before. Only as he slowly lowered that left hand back to his side did reality slap her across the face.

Oh. It happened, all right.

Heat rushed to her face, flushing it beat red, choking her half to death as her head flung itself back into chaos. _Oh god_. She turned away quickly, her entire body engulfed by that burning sensation, and tried, against the paralyzing force of her attacking heart, to stagger her way right out of the room. As far as possible.

_What did I just..?_

"Ichigo."

The sound of her name on his voice made her stop breathing. She didn't want to. She should have kept walking. She didn't have a choice. It was as if that driving force that had knocked her brain into such a _stupid_ state that would allow him to reel her in like that--!

As if it was still there, persuading her to turn and look at him once more, terrified and amazed all at once.

With his head now tilted towards her, only slightly, he smiled at her with deep and unreadable eyes. "Don't even think about running away again."

Basically, she just wanted to throw up.

Spinning away again, she struggled away, only able to mutter a helpless "Jerk" as she fought off that devouring feeling to avoid passing right out on the spot.

All she could think was -- _away_. She needed away. Far away. Away where she would never have to see him again, ever, anywhere, anytime, no matter what, for as long as she lived!

"Ah--Ichigo-oneechan!"

A jolt ran through her body as the door swung open, heart nearly bursting from the surprise. Standing there, though, was just Pudding, lopsided grin, glinting eyes, outstretched arms and all.

Somehow, this couldn't calm her jilted nerves, even so. The tiny monkey girl surely noticed, as her big toothy smile faded somewhat, head tilting to stare in puzzlement. "What's wrong, na no da?"

"N-nothing," She answered quickly. Anyone else wouldn't have believed her. After all, by now she must have been beet red, shaking, tense, an overall mess; obviously, _something_ was wrong. But Ichigo counted on Pudding to not notice, since it _was_ Pudding we were talking about--

All hopes were dashed as the tiny blonde frowned. "But you look sick," She pointed out.

Sick. That would be _so_ much simpler to deal with, so much more _normal_--

Ichigo's heart starting ramming back into overdrive when she heard soft footsteps coming from the other end of the room towards them. In a feeble and staggering attempt to keep distance between her and Ryou, she quickly struggled forward, trying to get past Pudding back into the basement so she could lock herself in the bathroom and _breath_. "Ehm, I'm fine, I promise," She answered hastily, trying to edge around the small girl with a sheepish smile.

At that moment, Pudding's suspicious eyes wandered away from Ichigo, instead fixing on the rest of the room. In an effort to distract her so she could slip past, the redhead posed an innocent question - "Why are you up here, Pudding? Are you looking for something?"

She hoped her nervous, rattly voice wouldn't draw too much attention to her. And it didn't. But, as the little girl stood on her tiptoes to get a good view of the lobby, Ichigo realized that it had been the very least of her worries.

"Did you see where Mizuki-oneechan went? Zakuro-oneechan had a question to ask and I think she came up here a minute ago..."

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down._


	9. Double Click

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter nine**;_ Double Click_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in._

_

* * *

_Pudding sneezed.

"It's getting cold," Zakuro agreed with a nod, her own hands tucked in the pockets of her lightweight trench. With the sun setting off in the distance, the humid, warm air had started to settle and gain a bit of a chill - on the streets especially, where heaters and furnaces were not as readily available to distribute sweet, comfortable warmth.

"Shirogane-oniichan is lucky," The short blonde murmured, tugging at her jacket zipper and staring woefully down the near-empty street.

Lettuce, meanwhile, only sighed as she meagerly attempted to de-fog her glasses. "You should have brought a better coat, Pudding-san," She said in an all-too-motherly way, "And that's not necessarily true. Shirogane-san needs to do just as much work as us, if not more,"

"Yeah, but _he_ can have hot chocolate, na no da," She pouted without appreciation, and rubbed her hands together in a greedy grab for heat.

And at the head of this misfit pack stood Mint, poised with a ballerina's grace, brown eyes sharp and alert, scanning their broad and darkening setting for signs of one particular girl. Er, machine. This trained focus was broken only as she herself chose to speak.

"This street's clear," She announced with dictator-like precision, to which Lettuce hastily flipped a notebook open and scribbled information down with skewed spectacles balanced on her nose. Mint continued and began to march; the other four followed. "So we've done a sweep of the cafe, the main street and the residential section; what else is close by?"

"The shopping district," suggested Zakuro.

"Inohara Park," was Pudding's addition, accompanied by tiny chattering teeth.

"Maybe one of the schools?" Lettuce threw in as she fixed the placement of her glasses and flipped through the book.

With a sigh, Mint folded her dainty arms over her chest. "Mizuki could have made it to _Kyoto_ by now if she wanted... unlike _someone_, she has no limits as to where she can disappear to. If what Ryou says about her abilities is true, at least."

"I don't understand why she left so suddenly..." The green haired girl glanced up from her notes, a hint of concern in her expression, "I always thought she was too... _grounded_ for something like that. It's like she was spooked by something."

"Hm," As she walked, Great Leader Mint tucked a lock of hair behind her ears and glanced over her shoulder warily, "Who knows. Whatever it was, though, I'm willing to bet it has something to do with precious _Ichigo_ here."

Upon hearing her name, the zoned-out girl snapped to attention, looking to be both bewildered and in a daze all at once. Which wasn't, in particular, anything new to the rest of them - ever since they'd been told to go on this Search Mission, she had barely said a word, simply staring blankly ahead and following along like some blind, homesick sheep. "What?"

Mint shrugged and turned away. "Nothing," was her indignant reply, which received a strange look from the (mostly) clueless redhead.

"Maybe since Ichigo-oneechan ran away, Mizuki-oneechan thought it would be fun, too," Pudding suggested innocently.

This got a wince. _Oh_. _That._ Guilt rained down on Ichigo once again, just as it had when she had first realized, with that down-dragged sensation, that Mizuki had wandered upstairs at some point during the - ehm - _encounter_. And that she suddenly went missing immediately afterwards.

Ichigo could only guess why, but wasn't about to bring it up. Not in a million years did she want to revisit _that_ incident --

"It's unusual to begin with. Lettuce is right, this is extremely unlike Mizuki," Zakuro stared unfalteringly down the street they now walked, "And considering how quickly she was able to leave without any available exit, I'd say her potential could have landed her anywhere. In Japan, easily, let alone Tokyo,"

And, almost as an after thought, the dark haired model paused to look at Ichigo. "And you're absolutely sure you didn't see her at all when she was leaving?"

_Thump_.

"Y-yeah," She only had to say one word, and Ichigo still managed to stumble over it... but it was still the truth, wasn't it? In all her, um, distraction, she hadn't so much as realized Mizuki was even in the general vicinity. Not until Pudding alerted her to that grim and somehow terrifying fact.

The _click_, she knew now - quiet, subtle, barely noticeable - had been the machine's graceful exit through the front door, however impossible the barricade of furniture would have made it.

But how was she supposed to _admit_ that without explaining why she hadn't tried to stop Mizuki from leaving? Possibly because, I don't know, some obnoxious and arrogant boy's stupid _face_ had been in the way?

As sarcastic as her thoughts had intended to be, Ichigo's face still flushed. She couldn't help it. Just _thinking_ about -- _that_ -- was enough to make her insides feel as if they would all tangle together in a giant knot and squeeze all the life out of her!

This, of course, attracted the wary and attentive eye of Mint.

"Hmn," And as the girl pursed her lips and arched her eyebrows in that I'm-On-To-You way, Ichigo knew she was in trouble. "Just what _were_ you and Ryou talking about for so long?"

"SQUAD." Immediate reply. Immediate, immediate. She was proud of herself for not throwing up then and there.

"Really." Mint wasn't impressed. Or convinced, much to Ichigo's dismay. "For all the yelling there was to begin with, it got quiet up there pretty fast --"

"I apologized, he forgave me." Ichigo was talking so fast it was a wonder anyone understood a _word_ she said. "Wasn'tthatbigofadeal."

Obviously not satisfied, Mint continued to torture the poor, helpless cat girl with those dagger-eyes of hers - so fiercely that Ichigo expected her to get all up in her face any second now - until, after a few moments more, she just gave up. Out of exhaustion, or frustration. "Whatever. We need to pick up the pace. Since you were so eager to come along instead of staying behind at the cafe, _Ichigo_, I expect that you'll learn the works of a search team quickly. We had to develop a method to deal with your first run-off, you see."

Ichigo bobbed her head in mute agreement, and, finally left alone, followed the group without another word. To give her quaking insides a chance to calm down.

How _could_ she stay behind, when he was there?

She hadn't been able to look him in the eye - hell, she couldn't even look in his _general direction_ or be within three feet of him without wanting to make a run for it!

Ichigo wanted so badly to be angry with him. I mean, that would be the natural thing, wouldn't it? He'd taken advantage of her by using some... scary-faced strategy, and then said some completely ridiculous things, and anyone actually expected her to _stay_?

...well, technically, none of the girls knew what had actually happened. Otherwise, they wouldn't have so kindly offered that she remain at the cafe with Ryou to help with tracking while everyone else went out for a few hours to search - her heart had nearly exploded when Mint delivered this cruel, cruel verdict!

On a moment's notice, Ichigo went running to Zakuro and by some miracle convinced her to bring her along - much to the poor redhead's relief and Mint's haughty distaste. And here she was now, quite content to be as far away as possible from that... manipulative, lecherous, immature _jackass_!

...she wanted so badly to be angry with him.

Lettuce and Zakuro, who had been keeping an eye on the sullen and withdrawn redhead, exchanged concerned glances at the front of the group.

And as Ichigo walked, eyes clouded and head down, she lifted the back of her cold hand to her lips.

She wanted them to feel disgusting, bruised, sullied.

But they were only soft. Soft and warm.

* * *

Ryou was getting absolutely nowhere.

When he'd made the decision to stay behind, he'd done so with the intention of tracking Mizuki so he could relay her location to Mint and the others before anything catastrophic happened.

So far, though, it was turning out to be practically impossible.

While she had a mechanism to automatically track any of them (assuming they had a cellphone on), they had no such way of locating _her_. Even when he tried to reverse the 'trace' by working backwards from his own phone, he kept hitting brick walls and coming up empty-handed. It was a security feature, he knew - for her to be untraceable was a valuable defense asset, and he should be thankful she was equipped so thoroughly. SQUAD would have been able to easily find her with a simple GPS if that hadn't been the case.

"Shit..." The hum of hard drives, tapping of keys, buzzing of screens - for once, all of it was beginning to give him a massive headache.

With his hand cradled haphazardly in one hand, the man wondered how something like this could even happen.

_Mizuki had seen him kiss Ichigo_. That was the only explanation, the only event he was aware of that would have marked any significance. But _why_ that would drive her - the level headed, meticulous, reasonable machine - to bolt eluded him entirely.

The others remained clueless to her method of escape, as he had been the only one to notice the front door. It had still been as tightly shut as any of the other exits or windows, but the barricade - the chairs, the boxes, the kitchen pots and all the other assorted junk - all of it had been shifted, just slightly, skillfully and subtly rearranged to jar the door just enough for the lithe woman to slip through unnoticed.

But the reasoning, the _reasoning_ was all that left him puzzled. Unless he'd been approaching this the wrong way.

Maybe -- it was entirely possible that, in the midst of all the chaos, Mizuki had identified a possible threat. Sensed another danger, and went out, on her own, to scope it out.

Which lead him, inevitably, to fall back on the internet. News archives. Live streams. _Anything_.

On one computer, he kept constant tabs on any strange sightings in the Tokyo area, while on the other, he fervently searched for any information on the elusive and mystery-shrouded SQUAD.

It was a gruelling process, only intensified by his pounding headache - and on top of all that, he had to fight off this gnawing feeling of _guilt_.

Images of Mizuki with her head buried in his chest flashed before his mind's eye. And then that look of frightened fixation on Ichigo's face before he kissed her, on impulse, without a second thought -

"Tch," The strain on his head was becoming unbearable. Ryou was reaching over for his water when a handful of keywords on the second screen caught his attention.

Immediately, he clicked.

_Fifth Mock Lab Shut Down This Month; Seven Dead._

* * *

She didn't bring a coat.

But it didn't mean she was cold. At least, not for that reason. All it meant was that, in her miscalculated haste, she didn't think to bring a jacket or any sort of cover - and as a result, Mizuki's dress and formal appearence was clearly visible to everyone.

_'Cosplayer, maybe?'_ She heard, even from the opposite end of the block. She continued to walk, head bowed - as if that would really detract the attention from her unusual self. _'No, no.. don't stare! It's just a new style. Don't be rude.'_

A coat would have been a good idea.

Mizuki wandered down the streets in complete silence, contrasting the hustle and bustle, passing strangers, crossing streets, observing, hearing.

_Gathering research_, her programming reasoned. Naturally. Unnaturally.

Of course. That was her purpose, after all. A machine did not live outside the boundaries of the predefined purpose.

But somehow, somewhere, there existed an inkling that it hadn't _just_ been her programming, some robotic intuition, that drove her out the door. That convinced her to be silent, unnoticed, to not tell a soul what her intentions were. Where she was going. Why she was going.

What had happened back there, the moment she'd stepped into the main room... even Mizuki couldn't say.

Something grasped ahold of her. Tightly. Shook her awake. Made her legs, arms, stomach ache; eyes burn, throat tighten, head sway...

...chest hurt...

A glitch, she'd decided. Just a glitch. She would initiate a full scan when she was in secure quarters again, and everything would be running normally again like it should have been.

This would not have happened if she'd been thinking clearly.

After walking through countless streets, passing shadows of countless buildings, she found herself in an open park area. A pond was the centerpiece, pretty, peaceful; the surroundings were calm, still, green, speckled with benches and picnic tables and the odd couple or lonely person.

It was a place that was full of air.

For a second or two, maybe three, Mizuki just stood there, eyes stormy with thought.

"_'That doesn't mean she's any more important to me than any of the other girls.' He said that, too."_

As her internal memory recalled this phrase, she shut her eyes. In pain, almost, if she could understand what pain was.

Right now, it felt to her as if everything had been turned around, flipped on end. That she wasn't the one saying those words anymore. That they were being said _to_ her, rather than by her. It was strange. A strange sensation.

Quietly, Mizuki put a hand to her heart - would-be heart - and gently allowed her lips to part, for the volume in her chest cavity to increase, pressure decrease; even without lungs, without a need to respire, she forced air inside.

This tight, constricting feeling was to blame for her malfunction, she was sure of it.

The reason she had to leave, then - however irrational and blasphemous it may have seemed - was for air. A breath of fresh air.

Mizuki inhaled.

A shuffle of fabric, _shuffshuffa_, brushing against wood alerted her sensitive ears. "Oh," And when she snapped her head up to the source of the sound, the voice, she saw a boy, young, expressionless, peering over the back of a bench in her direction.

Ice chilled her nerveless skin.

"Found you."

* * *

"The back avenue?"

"Clear."

"West street?"

"Clear."

"Library area?"

"Clear, na no da!"

Irritatingly repetitive. Incredibly mundane. Unbelievably _confusing_.

Since Ichigo had failed to catch on to the general gist of the system quickly enough, and had yet to actually accomplish anything _useful_ while in her little mystery-funk, Mint had publically demoted her to Secretarial Assistant.

Which, in a nutshell, meant she was responsible for looking over Lettuce's shoulder and checking for any spelling mistakes.

Obviously, there were none, so she was basically a vestigial limb here. Just being dragged along for the ride.

"Grrra," Pudding, with a ghost of a pout on her face once more, immitated the grumbling of her stomach. "Isn't it time for supper yet, na no da...?"

She had a point. None of them had actually eaten since lunch - Ichigo since the night before, due to her falling ill and running away and all that - and it was starting to get dark.

But that wasn't the point. This was _urgent_. There were lives at stake - particularily, the life of one valuable government weapon--

There was a moment of heavy consideration in the group. And then Zakuro sighed. "I don't think Ryou would object to us stopping to get a bite..."

Ichigo blinked from over Lettuce's shoulder. _Huh_? What was with that finality...?

"Yeah..." Even Mint agreed, the ever-exuberant leader tired and half-hearted after the long, winding trek through the city.

From where she stood, the redhead watched Lettuce's gaze fall downward as she meekly flipped the notebook shut, a silent symbol of her submission.

"H-hold on--" Ichigo stared in disbelief, but everyone was already prepared to wind down, chatting mindlessly about nearby resteraunts that would still be open at this hour - "You guys are... you're not seriously just giving up, are you?"

Zakuro barely batted an eye. "We've spent hours looking already, Ichigo, there's not much else we can do--"

"That's not an excuse! And it's not true! We can... we can.." But she had no idea what they _could_ do. How did one track down a super-fighting machine without disclosing its identity as a super-fighting machine? "...put up posters. File a Missing Persons report, take a bus downtown - anything! But we can't just _leave_ her out there..."

Pudding, tiny arms folded over her chest, sulked, and said nothing.

"Ichigo-san..." Putting a comforting hand on the youngest girl's head, Lettuce faced her distraught friend almost pleadingly, with weary eyes, "...I know you feel bad, but we can't go on like this for much longer."

"But she could have been _attacked_ by now! Kidnapped!" Ichigo's shock and appallment nearly threw her into hysterics, out there on that near-empty street, "Isn't the whole reason we're here is to protect her? Didn't Shirogane entrust us with that?"

"Regardless," Mint's sharp tone shut the redhead up instantly as the dancer turned leering eyes in her direction, "Mizuki clearly has a problem with you. You've realized that, haven't you? So why are you getting so defensive?"

There was this unpleasant, vibrating twinge near her heart. It made her mouth dry. "What are you talking about?" She asked, even if she knew.

It wasn't something she wanted to be reminded of. Not now. Not when finding her was so important - should have still been so important!

"We saw your door," Zakuro said, blunt, unforgiving. That coldness in her eyes was Ichigo's second warning sign. Something was wrong. It was almost like there was this thick, cloudy veil descending between her and the others. "And we had actually _wondered_ why you'd decided to climb out the window. Why didn't you tell us? She locked you in on purpose, Ichigo."

_Misunderstanding_, she told herself. It had all been some strange, rattled misunderstanding. Mizuki wouldn't do something like that on purpose. Why would she do two things - locking in and rescuing - that were so opposite from each other? Ichigo had tried to believe that it had all just been a _misunderstanding_, and here they were trying to tell her that it wasn't!

"N-no, ah, she wouldn't--"

"_Don't defend her!_"

Ichigo turned in surprise. Lettuce's free hand was clenched, blue eyes appearing watery. And angry.

_Why...?_

As if just registering the shock on everyone's faces, Lettuce flinched and glanced down at the cement. "I don't... I don't think it was fair to make us responsible for something like _her_."

It was -- really painful. Hearing things like that. It sapped all the energy out of her, making it almost impossible for her to protest. Ichigo tried, she did - but words wouldn't come out. They were stuck in her throat, rocks on honey.

"She's only a machine, Ichigo," Zakuro said as the others turned away, apprehensive and resolute, "And she ran off on her own, anyways. We tried. It's not as if we're letting a _friend_ die or anything."

_Die?_ Ice crept through her skin. They were serious. They were really just going to leave her...

A cold sensation clamped down on Ichigo's chest. _Mizuki_...

Mizuki had never uttered a single kind word to her. She made Ichigo feel like a kid being left out of the circle. She wouldn't accept help, wouldn't sit at the same table as the rest, wouldn't make an effort to be a part of the team -

But Mizuki _saved_ her.

Maybe not for Ichigo's sake, but for someone else's. Someone she obviously cared very deeply for, regardless off all the denial and technical mumbo-jumbo; someone who had taken care of her from the very start.

Someone who she'd just seen in the arms of another.

"I think..." Without realizing it, Ichigo was quietly speaking her own revelation, "...I think I understand what she's feeling."

Everyone paused, and turned to look at her strangely.

And then out of nowhere, a scream erupted from nearby.

All of a sudden, people were running. It was noisy. Loud. Crowded. Hectic. Chaos. Drowning. All attention went away from Ichigo as an onslaught of people - ten or fifteen at the most - came running, mothers holding children and couples calling out for each other. Her red head started swimming.

It was Zakuro who thought quickly enough to catch one frantic woman by the shoulder. "What's going on?" She asked, the other girls standing behind, blanched with confusion.

"Someone's attacking that child!" Nearly breathless, the woman looked over her shoulder with fearful eyes, "W-we tried to stop them, but they... _she_ can't be human. It was impossible--"

It was then Ichigo noticed a nasty gash on the side of the stranger's face. _She._ Immediately, an image of the girl - that SQUAD girl - flooded her mind, her and her frightening, _inhuman _red eyes.

Even before she grabbed Zakuro's arm - even before the model thanked the frantic woman and let her go - they were all facing the direction the frightened crowd had emerged from.

"Let's go," she said, and Tokyo Mew Mew took off without another thought.

Cement on feet turned to grass on shoes, and as they searched in vain for the small, vicious girl of Ichigo's nightmares, they instead found a more unusual sight.

More unusual, more shocking, and somehow even more _dangerous_.

A jolt numbed Ichigo's brain as she stumbled to an abrupt stop.

"_Mizuki_?" She cried.

Because there, beside the pond, sitting over a small, wild-haired boy was the Missing Robot herself. In 'Battle Mode', without the dress, without the braids and the boots and the cool, collected demeanor - just anger, rage, a flare trapped in a bottle.

Lilac hair roaring like medusa's. Spine arched like a cat. Slender, white fingers wrapped around a little boy's throat. Squeezing.

"Mizuki!"

They ran at her. Fast. Furious. Mint grabbed her first, by the arm, catching the machine's fierce eye; her grip did not falter, and the small, dull-faced boy writhed under the chokehold.

"What are you doing? Have you completely lost your mind?" She hollered as Zakuro grabbed the other arm. Mizuki wasn't budging.

Ichigo could only stare in total confusion. What was going on? Why would she be--

"_Let go of me!"_ A growl, a wild _roar_ rose from the robot's resistant self as a pleading Pudding tried to peel her steely fingers away from the tiny, child-like throat they'd captured. Tendrils of her snake-like hair fought back against the intruders, small air-resistant whips to their skin, as she tried to force the boy's face blue.

Ichigo's ghorrified amber eyes drifted down to his features - drawn completely tight and still, even on the verge of suffocation.

Small ears, dirty hair strewn on the grass, pale lips, eyes--

Her heart choked.

Cat eyes, golden, with a familiar intensity that rivalled even...

"Stop!" Ichigo shouted, voice rebounding through the abandoned park. Mizuki's ferocious gaze flickered to her; a momentary falter. And they pulled her away, just far enough for the struggling boy to breath, to crawl from the deadly grasp and escape. And they restrained her, or tried to, in that one fateful second; pinning the resistant robot by the arms, ankles, trying to knock sense into her - or out of her, by the look in Zakuro's fierce eyes.

The blood drained from the catgirl's face as she realized they'd misunderstood her call.

Time kind of lagged as the girls held her back. Ichigo nearly felt like collapsing. Because that _boy..._

"So you're the idiots who saved the world," He said from a little distance away, unimpressed and unfazed.

Confusion bubbled. They each looked up to see him, standing tall, strong - more menacing than the one who had previously held him captive. He was small, but the power resounding through the air around him was unmistakable. As was the flashing vengeance in his sharp eyes.

They were silent, but their faces all said the same thing.

_What was going on_?

"Let go," Mizuki commanded, with a stark, unnerving tone. They obeyed, out of bewilderment if nothing else, and she quickly stood up to her feet, on par with the blonde boy. She took one step forward. "Stay out of my way. _SQUAD _is my problem," she warned.

Mint, Zakuro, Lettuce and Pudding seemed to pale as the realization dawned on them.

Ichigo, on the other side of the encounter, was terrified.

"Mizu--" Everything whirled back into real-time once more the instant the small, trembling Pudding opened her mouth. The boy disappeared. Reappeared behind her. And with what seemed to be an effortless flick of the wrist, pressure was applied to the back of her neck and she was knocked out cold, falling to the ground in a quiet heap.

"_Pudding-san!"_ Lettuce cried, attempting to dash forward to help her. The small boy stepped over and away from Pudding's unconscious body, ignoring the girl that came running past him.

"You brought reinforcements? Coward," He snarled, expression still wide-eyed and unchanging. His gaze would not shift from Mizuki, who returned the favour by glaring directyl back. "If you're not going to come peacefully-"

"Leave," She told the 'reinforcements', apparently settling the problem. The boy shut up.

As Lettuce attempted to rouse Pudding, everyone else reacted with shock. Immediate and near-paralyzing shock. Too much was happening at once, what was going on, where had this alleged SQUAD boy come from--?

Ichigo hadn't moved once during this entire ordeal. Zakuro took note of this quietly, and turned away.

"...you heard them," She said suddenly, almost darkly, and she rose to her feet. Mint turned surprised eyes in her direction.

"Oneesama--"

"She's right. This isn't our problem. If she doesn't want help, we shouldn't force help on her." Before any protests could be made, she lifted a bold face in Mizuki's direction. "...I've seen what this has done to Ichigo. It's not fair to her to have to keep up this charade."

"Cha...?" Ichigo started, but was unable to find her voice. This wasn't really going on, was it? They weren't seriously trying to tell her they were just going to _leave_, were they? That Mizuki was just going to be left here...?

But Mizuki was unfazed. She simply held her own, keeping a hard eye on the inhuman being before her.

"It's one thing if you're unwilling to join the team. It's another if you're damaging it," And with that, Zakuro was finished. Mint had already stood, staring at her respected elder with uncertainty and puzzlement; Lettuce carried an unmoving mass of Pudding, solemn and shaking, avoiding eye contact with anyone altogether.

_But that's not true!_ Ichigo wanted to interject so badly, but knew it was pointless. She'd known ever since she'd seen that dead coldness descend in the eyes of her friends that it was pointless. It didn't keep away the pained, helpless feeling that suddenly engulfed her.

Mizuki did not move. But she replied. "I agree," she said in a voice so flat it made Ichigo wince, "I am perfectly capable of defending my own self. Your services are not required here."

There was a moment of respect exchanged between the two - the calm Mizuki and the mighty Zakuro - that was memorable, if nothing else. But after that, 'farewell' remained heavy in the air as she turned away, and Mint and Lettuce (however hesitantly) followed suit.

"Come on, Ichigo."

But while they walked, Ichigo stayed where she was, frozen.

"You, too," She was addressed by Mizuki, who by this point must have been unable to tear her gaze from her enemy for even one moment, "_Leave_."

Ichigo could only stare.

"Ichigo!" They called her, as if she was a disobedient puppy, already somewhere in the looming distance.

The girl did not move.

She thought of the anger she'd experienced when Mizuki first showed up in that Cafe lobby.

The panic when she'd realized Mizuki had locked her, flu-ridden, in her own room.

The cold look Mizuki had given her from Ryou's arms, sending that fire of jealousy down Ichigo's spine.

There were so, _so_ many reasons for Ichigo to hate this woman. Person. _Thing_.

And maybe she did. Maybe she despised her with every ounce of her being, just as Zakuro and the others appeared to do.

But that didn't make abandoning her right.

If it was coming down to morale - Ichigo hardly knew her own reasonings and opinions anymore - then she at least needed to match Mizuki on that front. If she wouldn't save her for the sake of _saving_ her, then she would save her for the sake of Ryou and all the work he had put into protecting her.

Suddenly, Ichigo could move and speak again. It was as if those unbearable chains had melted away from her limbs. She could _breath_ again.

Standing tall, she stepped forward. Gold eyes flickered in her direction, but no surprise registered in the boy's expression.

Even Mizuki turned to look for the most fleeting of seconds. "What are you doing?"

"I owe you."

"There's no--"

"_I owe you._"

The machine woman arched her eyebrows, and Ichigo smiled, hardly knowing whether it was sincere or spontaneous or a smile at all. She just knew this was what she had to do.

"_Ichigo-oneechan!_"

The distressed call that came from behind barely connected before the boy appeared right in her face, expression still unrealistically calm.

"Easy meat," he called her.

Quickly, with reflexes that somehow felt distant, her hands flew up and she pushed him away. Or, tried to. With immeasurable speed, he dodged, smoothly, and in the blink of an eye ended up behind her line of vision.

She spun around just in time to see him aiming for a foot-slam-to-the-head.

Tendrils of lilac hair snagged him by the shoulders and yanked him back and away before anything could make contact. And the boy barely yelped in response before Mizuki grabbed hold of him herself, lifted with incredible strength, and _threw_ his young body in the opposite direction.

It landed with a quaking _splash_ in the pond.

"Are you alright?"

When Mizuki spoke to her, Ichigo gave a slight jolt, realizing that even after only a double-moment encounter, she was trembling and gasping for air. What left her most shocked, however, was the fact that she had actually been addressed with _concern_. "Yeah-"

Split-second later, and the sopping wet boy had launched himself from the water. Ducks scattered. He closed the distance almost impossibly, reaching out to strike - he was once more intercepted by Mizuki as she clutched his arms with an eagle-grip and pulled back, raising her leg to deliver a horse kick. He ducked, twisted out of the way unscathed, and took advantage of this momentary freedom to swing beneath the robot and try to knock the back of her knees out. She swivelled, executed a flawless backflip, and upon landing locked eyes solidly with the boy just a few startling feet away.

As all this was exchanged in a flurry of silent movement, Ichigo watched, dumbfounded and mesmerized; then, the dire situation presented a grave reminder that she stayed behind to be _involved_, not to watch from the sidelines and cause more problems.

Quickly, she held her hand out for the pendant to appear. "_Mew mew Strawberry, Metamorphose_!"

Warmth and light flooded through - for a moment. And then it flickered away, a candle blown out by the breeze - when she looked down, there was no pink dress. No cat tail. _No pendant._ Horror seized her.

"Ichigo-san!" She turned around fast to see Lettuce sitting near a cluster of trees, a weak (but now conscious) Pudding supported in her arms. Big blue eyes conveyed fear and concern. "What's going on?"

If only she could answer.

"I don't know," she called back, staring at her own shaking hands, "Something's--"

As an effective interruption, she was tackled in the stomach, and there was a scream. Dizzily, Ichigo couldn't decipher whose, but when her vision cleared, so could no longer see Lettuce or Pudding. The boy's face suddenly blocked her field of view entirely.

Before she could react, he gained a claw-like grip on her face, nails digging into the side of her head brutally.

"Henrietta was right," He said in a frighteningly level tone, "You're no fun at all."

"Urgh--" Jaw clenching to hold back a cry of pain, Ichigo tried to pry those small fingers away. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Mizuki down, struggling to stand with one of her legs apparently damaged.

He was strong.

Strong, but weaker than the girl, Ichigo noticed immediately as she looked up at him. He did not have the same force behind his actions that the blood-eyed one had - incredible speed and mind boggling ability, but on a totally different level. His eyes were that of a wild beast, but they were completely blank, almost reminding her of a child, a lonely boy --

"Get--" This wasn't a matter of letting her life slip by, of letting her chances go because of one tiny glitch. Even if for some reason she wasn't able to transform, she wouldn't be helpless. She was _not_ helpless. It came down to survival, and to survive at the moment - even with a searing pain in her head - would require her to fight back. With her own power. "--_off!_"

Somehow, by some miracle, she grabbed his skinny arms and shoved that small boy right off and away from her. She rolled, kicked - and by some miracle, this got her homefree. Long enough for her to catch her breath and re-align her senses, at least - and by the time this happened, he was already peeling himself off the ground with eyes fixed on Ichigo.

A deadly ferocity swam in those golden depths, and she somehow managed to hold her own by staring back... with what she could only pray were equally intimidating eyes. It was doubtful, but still.

At this moment, Ichigo had no idea why her transformation was not working. Or why SQUAD was even here in the first place. All she knew for certain - and clung to as a result - was her very own strength, her only ally in this puzzling battle.

She came to copes with the idea sooner than she'd expected.

But at that exact moment, the boy's overwhelming speed kicked in once more, and she leapt to the side, turning instinctively, trying helplessly to predict his movements. He appeared behind her, and she spun, once - in the time it took her to do this, he was behind her again, fully prepared to strike her in the back of the head.

She was shoved out of the way just in time. By a pair of smooth, strong arms.

Ichigo gasped, both from shock and an attempt to keep up with her heart rate. "Zakuro!"

The tall, dark haired girl caught and released her, having pulled her several paces away from the attack. "You okay?" After a momentary blink, Ichigo put a hand up to her own cheeks, where bloody, but shallow, scratches marred the sides of her face.

"Think so..." She flinched a bit from the touch, and glanced up at Zakuro strangely. There was a bizarre red (hand?) mark on the side of her face that Ichigo examined with inquisitive eyes, "D-did he get you too?"

"Eh? Er, no, that's--"

"Keh!" Ichigo spun around sharply at the sound of his aggrivated voice to see the boy surrounded by Lettuce, Mint, and a woozy but determined Pudding. Zakuro stood tall, even off with Ichigo like she was, prepared to attack or defend, all depending on what move the SQUAD child decided to make next.

That feeling of hope, deep in Ichigo's chest, had suddenly been restored.

"Tch. Six on one," He glanced over to Mizuki a ways away, and then back at the girls who had him cornered so securely. His sharp eyes momentarily flitted back and forth, somehow nervous, "No fair. I guess that really does make you all accomplices to this crime."

The wind barely kept up with him as he suddenly bolted, shoving the weakened Pudding out of the way as an opening. "_Hey_!" Mint shouted, attempting to grab him and put up chase... but just like that, he was gone. Out of sight, out of reach.

With that, a heaviness in the air seemed to fade. Ichigo's knees buckled.

"Ichigo!" Zakuro caught her by the arms and she blinked a few times, sucking in a breath of air. The others turned to look at her with concern - concern that was somehow jilted by fright and curiousity. Then, managing to find muscle control again, Ichigo straightened up by herself and looked around. To make sure it was safe.

She took one stagger forward, and then regained composure as she made her way over to the pond.

"Where do you think you're..." Mint started, and was cut off when she saw Mizuki beside the pond on one knee, the other twisted at a strange and painful-looking angle. The instant she was close enough, Ichigo sat down, reaching out to examine the injury.

There were sirens polluting the air.

"Does anyone know first aid?" She asked, ignoring other distractions.

Mizuki looked over at her warily. Exhaustion was plain, even on her clean-cut features. "What are you--"

"I know you don't bleed," After looking it over for a minute - it was on the side of her knee, like a bruise, a tiny bit of 'flesh' torn so fragments of wire could be seen - Ichigo climbed to her feet and offered an arm to help the injured one up, "But there's got to be some way to make you feel better, isn't there?"

There was complete silence. Much to Ichigo's surprise, Mizuki actually reached up and accepted the help, leaning on the girl for just a subtle smidge of support. There was no retort, like anticipated. No argument. No resistance. In fact - it may have just been Ichigo's imagination, in the end - but she could have sworn she'd seen an actual _nod_ of agreement from the machine.

Somehow, she couldn't help but feel like this was a sign of progress. The redhead smiled.

Then, as the other girls tentatively approached, she remembered a few startling details. "Is Pudding okay?" The little blonde girl drowsily followed Lettuce, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"Mmhm," Patting the girl softly on the head, Lettuce managed to smile too, "She's just worn out, I think."

Ichigo sighed in relief. It was only at this point she noticed how awkward and uncomfortable Mint and Zakuro appeared - they each seemed ready to say something, looking toward Mizuki and then away just as quickly. It was the former who finally bucked up.

"Sorry," Mint said, looking a bit embarassed. She turned expectantly to Zakuro, who wouldn't make eye contact, but seemed to have settled on her decision.

"It was immature of us to leave like that," The model continued the apology, glancing at the silent Mizuki, "If Ichigo is going to fight them in order to protect you, then... we will too."

The two of them appeared satisfied, leaving it at that.

And Mizuki, where she was, looked baffled. As if she wasn't sure at all what to make of something like this. Her lips gave a slight twitch, as if she were considering a reply --

And then her eyes, regaining professional coldness, flashed in obscure recognition, and her shoulders went completely tense.

"We have to go back," she said, urgency uncloaked, "_Now_."

* * *

_Since the controversial publicism of the Mew Project, 'Mock Labs' have been a growing problem throughout Japan. In the last two years alone, hundreds of illegal laboratories have been springing up all across the country, ranging from premature poaching organizations to full-scale, violent, murderous, agency-run operations._

_These underground organizations run in parallel to the drug trade, often in combinations of enforced abductions, robberies, and severe violations of human rights. _

_On Monday, another lab near Shinjuku was discovered, evacuated, and shut down. Mori Yutaka, 32, Inoue Daichi, 33, and Komatsu Kouta, 29, were all arrested under the charge of creating and running this lab. _

_"According to recent investigations, the so-called 'Mock Labs' are born in order to imitate the superhuman effects imposed by the Mew Project," claims Matsuda Tasu, head of the federal investigations unit, "This desire to manufacture the perfect human weapon has spurred the number of illegal tests on children and adults to rise to an all-time high."_

_Seven deceased individuals have been discovered on site. They have yet to be identified._

_Mock Labs tend to be cramped, unsanitary quarters equipped with high technology and confinement measures, where individuals are taken, often against their will, and subjected to many inhumane tests. Various coroners have reported cases of animal organs, blood, and outward features appearing in or on corpses recovered from the testing sites._

_Many missing persons have also turned up at opposite ends of the country, grotesquely deformed and mutated, often displaying characteristics similar to those of local Mock Lab victims._

_Investigations into the origins and prevention of Mock Labs are ongoing._

Ryou stared at the screen, face frozen in petrified awe. This...

_This_ was the result of all his years of hard work? His father's dream, his life's accomplishment? He could feel his teeth grinding at the thought of it, that tender vein in his forehead pulsing -

No. That wasn't it. This was all the result of human greed. Always having to push limits, to stretch abilities, to kick the human race down the straight-paved road to destruction...

_Animal characteristics..._

That detail snagged his attention. He recalled just a few hours earlier, when he had been in the basement for the brief period of time, and Lettuce - in a feeble attempt to calm his riling anger - explained to him in rushed detail what Ichigo had relayed to her about the encounter with the SQUAD girl.

At the time, he'd been too focused on making sure Ichigo was safe, and hadn't exactly considered the implications of the event.

Now that he thought about it, the vague recollection of the attacks she'd described second hand... well, they seemed oddly animal-like.

In a flurry of key-tapping, Ryou set up intensive searches for key words: 'mock labs', 'missing persons', 'mew project'. A new light sprung up in his eyes, realization entailed by fascination. Mysterious rebels with animalistic tendancies. _Click. Click. Tappa-tappa-clattah._ Did that mean that SQUAD was-?

_Crash_. And just as the results began pouring through, the computer screen flickered blank. All of them, he was informed with a quick upward glance. All the overhead lights flashed dark. That flame in his eyes was blown out. He immediately reached over to snatch his cellphone.

_No service_, it conveniently informed him. Even though there had been full bars just a second ago in this here room -

The _crash_ echoed again, louder this time; and suddenly, dust filled the basement as the cellar door, garden rocks and all, came crumbling down in a dramatic and climactic fall.

He deliberately let the useless cellphone slip from between his fingers. And he sat tall, staring straight ahead with a deadened expression.

There were no exits. No escape. Everything was barricaded shut. _Step. Step. _He'd cornered himself in his own mouse trap.

Somehow, deep down, there had been an inkling all along that it would come down to something like this. Ryou had just hoped they'd find them and eliminate the problem beforehand.

Beat at his own game, it seemed.

The heavy clomp of shoes approached from behind, and he closed his eyes - summoning courage, trying to cool his own suddenly flaring pulse, to keep his wrecking-ball thoughts in order as his fate descended on him. Predators on their prey.

"So," He spoke, unnervingly calm for someone whose heart was hammering so fearfully,

"You must be SQUAD."

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down._


	10. Popup Storm

(WOW long update wait much? if i've still got any of my old readers left.. haha wow, dedication. i love you so much. and if i somehow managed to get new readers... welcome. don't worry. i'm just slow. but i am determined to finish this story, so it WILL happen, i swear. just hang tight lovelies.

also, if it seems like this chapter has less happening than usual, yuh. it's only half of the originally planned chapter - it was just taking waaaay too long as it is. so the next one will have extra action, just to make up for it.)

* * *

**P**_ro_g**r**_**a**_m _L_**o**_v_**el**y

**chapter one**;_Startup_

_checking systems... confirming password... logged in. _

* * *

Ichigo had never run so fast in her life.

But maybe memory just wasn't serving her. She was sure avoiding Kishu and the aliens had been up there. Or chasing Chimera Anima through the streets of Tokyo. Or skittering around the Cafe day after day, taking orders. Or even just earlier today, when she'd practically bolted miles to the train station as if her life depended on it.

Though, quickly she realized it couldn't compare. Not now. Not when her entire body and being was seized by this flaring, gripping fear - when everything seemed to be spinning out of control and barreling beyond proportion - not now, not when she knew she could be chasing a sight she'd never want to see --

_"We have to go, now."_

You say that kind of thing at a coffee shop when you're late for an appointment, or when your kid won't co-operate and put his toys away, or when things get awkward on a double-date and you just want out of there. In itself, those words were nothing particularly traumatizing.

But when Mizuki said them, it was as if a shockwave had been sent through all of their minds. A perfect connection; a single message; a neon sign, magnificent and frightening, burning the same message into five unprepared brains.

_Something happened to Ryou._

But now, when she could barely breath, or feel, or see, Ichigo certainly didn't want to think. So she ran. Kept running. Lost herself completely to her feet and her lungs and her heart - everything else just shut down, leaving barely enough time to send up a silent prayer and a fast-dying hope.

Mizuki was already leagues ahead of them. When it became clear they understood, she took off at unmatched speed, leaving them in the dust to follow behind, slow, exhaustable, and human. Now they were staggered down the streets, running through the dark and peaceful neighbourhoods with conflicting confusion, panic, desperation and fear.

Above all, fear.

And there it was, breaking on the horizon as they rounded a corner. The Cafe.

It was still standing; it wasn't in flames. It looked the same as it had this morning: pleasant, pink and in one piece.

So why didn't it settle any of their stomachs?

"He's not picking up," Zakuro concluded, breathless, stashing the phone she had been hitting 'redial' on over and over for the past five blocks, and picking up speed.

_Don't think about it,_ Ichigo told herself, burning extra holes in her chest and blistering her feet faster for the home stretch, _Don't think about what that means. _

That had to be what Mizuki had meant - the phone. Just the same as she had kept track of Ichigo at the train station, she had been keeping tabs on Ryou, too. And something had broken that connection, quickly enough to throw Mizuki - calculating, grounded, logical Mizuki - into a full blown dash across the city.

But now, Ichigo was beginning to wonder if it had just been a mistake. As they approached, she could see all the doors and windows were still sealed; had his phone just died? Been turned off by mistake?

What should have been reasoning became hopes she was blindly and frantically clinging to. And she knew that, even when the others began to slow down, registering that nothing was out of the ordinary - she knew however logical and sane those hopes may have been, they weren't right. Even if she wanted them to be.

_Please_.

"W..." All breathless, dishevelled and bewildered, the girls slowed to a jog, taking in the too usual scenery, "..what happened, na no da? I don't see anything--"

Pudding cut herself off as they turned the corner to the back.

That hope Ichigo had been hanging off of snapped, cleanly and efficiently, in two.

The door, where rocks and camoflauge materials had been used as concealors, had been brutally kicked in. Splintered wood, dust, fragments of rock and torn fabrics littered the so-hoped 'secret' entrance - now just an ominous and disastrous pit of debris.

And that was it. The adrenaline that had been driving her and keeping her upright evaporated - Ichigo collapsed to her knees on the cold grass, and everything that had been spinning before went frightfully still.

"No," she mouthed, stomach churning at the sight.

"Ichigo-" Exhausted, Zakuro moved forward to help - but the red haired girl was already crawling forward, shaking, gasping for air, eyes going misty.

"Shirogane.." Coughing from the dirt and dust, Ichigo dragged herself to the destroyed door and tried, helplessly, pathetically, to stand - "W-what did you do now... breaking the door... you _jerk_, do you know how fast I ran..."

The others just watched in silence, frozen in uncertainty, as she yanked a block of wood and a torn sheet out of her way, raised her voice to barely above a whisper, and ducked down into what had once been a safe haven.

"You're lucky--" she warbled, before her voice died completely.

Mizuki stood there, back straight and turned to her.

In an empty room.

"He's gone."

At that point, Ichigo lost all sense of what was happening, all control of what she was doing. Her senses were swept away in a blackening swipe; everything stopped and started to rush at once, and when she came to again, she had bulldozed through the room and was already clambering her way up the broken, splintered stairway, struggling against whatever was holding her back.

"Stop," She yanked at the resistence, ignoring the voice, determined to barrel past. To break the door down. To _find him_. "Ichigo-san, _stop!_"

Lettuce stood there, pale-faced and fighting back tears. Ichigo, heaving for breath and aching from struggle, looked down to see the other girl was gripping her arm, white-knuckled and trembling.

"Please, calm down," the green-haired girl whispered, refusing to loosen her grip, "We don't know what's happened, whoever did this could still be here--"

Ichigo stared at her in wild desperation. "Then we need to _find _them! Let me go!"

"Ichigo-san, please just sit down, you can't do anything in this state--"

"I have scanned all the rooms and floors already," Mizuki spoke, crisp and even, staring straight ahead without moving a muscle, "There is no one else in the building."

At those words, her blind determination dissolved. Ichigo exhaled, falling limp, allowing Lettuce to gently guide her back down the stairway and to a chair, where she sat in a cold daze.

"Just rest for a moment," Lettuce said softly, but the redhead was suddenly unresponsive as Zakuro and the others came down slowly from the smashed-in trap door.

After a moment of surveying the scene, Zakuro closed her eyes and dusted her hands off. "Mint, Lettuce, go. Check every room."

At this, Mizuki finally turned her head. Weariness was etched across her artificial face. "My scans are one hundred percent accurate--"

"I said I would fight to protect you," Zakuro answered curtly with a grim, stoic expression, "_Not_ that I would trust you. For all we know, you could be holding him hostage somewhere in this building. Go."

Mint and Lettuce obeyed immediately, hurrying away from the gathering tension and toward the main floor of the Cafe.

Mizuki simply cast the commanding woman a calculating glance, and turned away again. "I cannot argue if that is your decision."

Meanwhile, Pudding made her way into the room and stared fearfully at its leftover catastrophe; then, seeing Ichigo, she made her way over to her chair and collapsed on the floor beside her, completely spent.

All of them were; by this point, it was a struggle just to walk.

"Ichigo-oneechan," the youngest Mew tried to give her arm a shake, but Ichigo said nothing. She just sat, leaned over, hands clammy and cold against her head - her head that kept urging her to _move, move, move!_... but her body that just wouldn't. Couldn't.

All she could do was sit in this chair like a good girl, staring at an overturned chair just a few feet away. Quietly, she began to imagine him sitting there, in front of all those computers, his intense blue gaze fixed on the flickering screens...

Tears began to prick at her eyes.

_Please be alive,_ she silently begged the universe as a knot twisted in her throat, _Please._

"Would it be right," Zakuro began again, taking command despite the shambled state of the team, "to assume this was the work of SQUAD?"

"There is a ninety-eight percent chance," was Mizuki's quiet reply.

"And there is no way you can directly track them down at this point in time?"

The machine's definitive silence answered the question.

Zakuro sighed, but had expected nothing more; nothing was ever so simple. "Well, aside from all your statistics and collected data, did you happen to come with any _deduction_ programming?"

Mizuki appeared neither amused nor bothered by the nature of this question - she only spared the woman a glance and made her way over to the broken-through door.

Sparks began to flash in her iced-over eyes.

"They broke in through the cellar entrance."

Now it was Zakuro's turn to be annoyed. "I think the rest of us can see that already," her reply was laden with snideness and sarcasm, but the machine simply gazed at the gaping hole above.

"With their feet," Mizuki finished.

Zakuro's eyes shot up. _That_, apparently, had been unexpected. She had assumed they would have used something heavy, much heavier - especially considering the door had been sturdy enough to hold up several weighted rocks and the occasional person on guard. As she looked at the door area now, she could see how the once solid block of wood had been reduced to splinters -

A breeze of fear tremored up her arms. "How can you be sure?"

Mizuki's head lifted, and her eyes flashed brighter - the girls could all hear that _whir_ of her not-so-figurative gears beginning to turn again.

"Taking into consideration the angle at which the debris has been scattered, and the pattern at which the pieces landed, the destruction occured in one blow, and the approximate size of the offending weapon of force corresponds with that of an average--"

"Okay, I believe you," Cutting her off, an exasperated Zakuro approached the carnage as well, feeling a headache already coming on. They had their work cut out for them. "What else have you got?"

There was a moment of silent speculation. "There was a struggle. An infrared scan of this room indicates the presence of terrestial warmth faded in the last fifteen minutes. _He_ would have been sitting there," She pointed to an area by the computers - "Until his own actions of defense relocated him to over there," Motioned towards the stair case area, "And from that point, the pattern of struggle ends. I suspect he was knocked out and carried, not dragged. Signs of struggle and signs of forceful exit end here."

Zakuro's mouth felt dry after hearing this account, as if she had seen the scene play out before her own eyes.

"How many of them were there?"

"Two."

So, that was it then. One human man against two super-strong Who-Knows-What.

_Sorry Ryou,_ Zakuro thought, visually scanning the scene again, _you barely stood a chance._

Then, she shut her eyes, attempting to fully digest it all.

"And what should our next move be?"

For once, Mizuki seemed to have no answer. The heaviness of the situation began to truly sink in.

It was at that point that Lettuce and Mint came in through the main room door. Ichigo, who had been half-zoned out, half listening, lifted her head suddenly, wide eyed and attentive. And hopeful. Too hopeful.

"We checked everywhere," Mint reported, breaking the silent spell.

Ichigo's hope quickly died and she slumped back down again. They didn't have to say anything else to make it clear.

"They wrecked this place entirely... Lord," Daintily, the ballerina made her way down the staircase, trying to sidestep a snapped-in-half table leg, "Nothing upstairs was touched, but they outdid themselves here. Why didn't Ryou call for help?"

"Outside," Mizuki's eyes flickered up toward the outdoor entrance again, posture stiffening, "The entire facility's wires have been dug up and cut up."

The others looked surprised; no one had noticed this in all the chaos and panic.

"Then, he really was completely cut off from everyone..." As she followed after Mint, Lettuce's eye caught on a familiar item. His phone. Kneeling down, she picked it up as if it were a delicate piece of china. Frowning, she carefully flipped it open.

"There's no signal," Mizuki noticed. Indeed, there were no bars at the screen's top corner; just as everything else, any means of communication had been intercepted.

Something terribly grim filled the room, then. Like a heavy fog, on all their shoulders - but none moreso than Mizuki, who appeared, despite logic, despite functionality, guilty. As if a sense of failed responsibility had invaded her heart of switches and numbers and codes.

"What now?" Mint asked, finally, uncomfortable. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ichigo, and could almost _see_ her sink lower and lower into the floor with every passing second.

Silently, Mizuki moved forward and put her hand on one of the computer screens. It instantly flickered on.

"How - it wouldn't turn on when I tried," Lettuce cried, and the others turned to look in surprise.

"Built in power supply," With that simple explanation, Mizuki's eyes were already turned to the screen. A block of text, black on white, had flashed on; an article. Quickly, everyone (save Ichigo and Pudding) gathered around, concentrated.

_"Mock labs" are theorized to account for the mass number of local kidnappings in the past six months._

_Children and young adults appear to be the main victims of choice, ranging in gender and appearence. _

_Authorities advise that children are always supervised and avoid downtown areas altogether. Overall caution should be taken by the general population._

"Why would Ryou be reading something like this?" Mint asked, grabbing the mouse to scroll through, intrigued and puzzled, "My god, he must have pulled up twenty articles already! All on the same--"

"Wait!" Zakuro boomed, and Mint froze - both pairs of eyes fixed on one line.

_Lately, mutilated corpses of house cats, dogs, wild rabbits, and on occasion, creatures stolen from zoos (such as baby bears and cougars) have been discovered at the labs._

"This sounds," Zakuro murmured, mesmerized, "a little familiar."

Lettuce blanched, horrified. "You don't think they've been using those animals for--!"

Mizuki merely appeared pensieve - but no less attentive. "Shirogane-sama must think this has something to do with SQUAD," she said, almost too quietly.

The three exchanged glances, having been thinking the same.

"Is that why they took him?" Ichigo spoke up for the first time in what had felt like forever. Pudding, who had been trying to snap her out of it, jumped a little in surprise.

"No," Mizuki's response, though blunt as usual, was tinged with something else. Zakuro wondered if, vaguely, it was guilt - or some form of it. The robot woman gave one sorrid glance to the screen before removing her hand, quickly extinguishing the light, "If this article is truly the case, they have no reason to target anyone. Information like this would encourage sympthasizing, not antagonizing."

Yes -- guilt. Zakuro couldn't be sure what it was about her tone, or her face - both were blank, drawn, inexpressible - but despite all that, despite the lack of any _normal_ display of emotion, she was almost entirely sure there was faint regret in those artificial words.

"It's more than ninety percent likely they attacked Shirogane-sama in order to draw me out."

This should have come as more of a shock to the girls, but it somehow made all too much sense. This machine - this amazing, futuristic, potentially dangerous well-kept-secret - was like a national treasure. A rarity. A _trophy_.

And SQUAD, whoever they were, for whatever reason, craved it.

"B-but... what would they want with Mizuki-san?" Lettuce pondered in distress as she busied herself suddenly, trying to collect pieces of the mess around them, "If they're strong enough to break a door with... with their _feet_, and no one has been actively chasing them... aren't they free to do what they want?"

Mizuki wore a hard expression; after a moment of silent, her body gave a slight movement. A shrug of the shoulders. Or a shake of the head. But no words. No answer.

Ichigo watched and listened, mesmerized and horrified at the same time. "They'll do anything to get you."

Mizuki glanced up to see a change suddenly overcoming the redhead. Color was rushing to the girl's face, her before limp hands began to tremble, her eyes sparking back to life. "They're animals. _Monsters._ They'll do _anything_!"

"Ichigo-" Quickly recognizing the stress she was under, Zakuro moved to try and calm her down - but Ichigo had already steadied herself to her feet. Even Pudding reached up to tug worriedly at her arm.

"Ichigo-oneechan-"

"I've seen them!" Her newfound fervour seemed to spread like wildfire, infecting every inch of her body. It was as if she were truly a cat, back arching, fine hairs standing on end - her breathing seemed momentarily erratic, uneven, as panic flashed through her eyes, "You don't understand, I've _seen _them. Her face -- her _eyes_ -- "

The memory itself sent a ripple of cold fear up and down her spine. Then, it crashed together in her mind, a morbid conclusion that seemed to drain every drop of boiling blood from her face as her voice cracked -

"She'll kill him."

"Ichigo, sit _down_," Mint demanded with only a hint of uneasiness,moving towards the frantic girl to calm her (and the others, who stood rigid, infected by her immediate fear) down.

Or try.

Ichigo, it seemed, would not be calmed.

"If they haven't already," And her voice, which had lost momentum for just a second, picked up again, reaching a crescendo in hysteria, "We have to go. Now. We can't just _sit_ here, we have to find him, we have to go--!"

"He's not dead," Mizuki snapped, loudly, tearing the noise into a resentful silence. Ichigo's half-crazed eyes wandered to the speaker in shocked disbelief.

Standing very tall, and very still, Mizuki seemed to sigh through a clenched jaw in frustration before continuing. "They won't do anything to him - not until they've had a chance to bargain for whatever it is they're aiming for. Criminals don't kill the hostage until very last resort."

Ichigo's heart, still catching up to her sudden infuriated burst, choked a little at the word _"kill"_.

"If we can assume they're attempting to draw me out, they wouldn't risk a bluff. A dead man would be useless."

Slowly, quietly, Ichigo's tense shoulders fell, her face left to express only a bewildered daze. Somehow - though there were still questions and more uncertainties than one could count on a single hand - the tension in the air seemed to ease, even just slightly, clearing the heavy smog that had settled in the room.

"He'll be alive. For now, at least," Was Mizuki's final promise. Though it was anything but comforting, it helped to lift one tiny, but hefty, worry from the shoulders of the heroines.

And so, it seemed, in the silence there was just one inevitable question begging to be asked --

"Then... what are we supposed to do now, na no da?" Pudding asked softly, looking around at the others with a puzzled face.

Zakuro just sighed.

"We search."

* * *

"They want us to find them," Was Mizuki's first instruction. The debriefing had begun. "So there will be a connection somewhere. Somewhere we've been, somewhere with significance."

"The park," Mint threw in.

"Airport."

"Train station?"

Mizuki brushed grains of rubble away with her foot, eyes scanning everything as she stood near the door - half of her involved in the here-and-now, the other half piecing together the scarce bits presented to them as clues.

"Those locations would be considered too public to hold a hostage."

"You can't discount that," Mint argued, "They were willing to provoke you to a fight in the middle of a populated place. If that's any indication, they wouldn't be put off by something like that."

Mizuki's jaw gave an unrehearsed twitch. "Correct," she seemed hesitant to reply, eyes wandering to the blank screen once more, "But all those are unnecessarily far away. Wherever they are keeping him will be easily accessible, but deserted."

"Those are the only places we've found them," Lettuce reminded her softly, sitting in one of the chairs and ringing her hands anxiously, "So it would at least be worth a try - "

"We'll run out of time." There was a self-imposed strength behind Ichigo's words, hoarse and shaky as they were, "If it's not somewhere we've been, maybe Mizuki knows of another place. If SQUAD really wants to be found, they would leave something here to get a response from her, wouldn't they?"

At the mention, a faint sandpaper scrape could be heard from below - barely audible to the human ear, but to a certain machine's receptors, it was clear as day. Mizuki halted motion completely, gaze instantly flickering to the floor.

"What?" Pudding hopped up from her chair and bounded to Mizuki's end of the room eagerly, the others migrating in the same direction curiously.

Kneeling, the robot gracefully lowered her hand to the ground, and with the most delicate touch of her fingers scooped up a small pinch of a strange, copper-coloured dust.

Ichigo was the last to reach the group, and when she did, she was quick to realize what she held wasn't dust. Not quite. Not sand, either, or crumbs, or pebbles - it was as if Mizuki had scraped up tiny fragments of jagged metal, some vaguely familiar material with a bizarre gold sheen.

"Kinet," Mizuki's whirring noises returned as she identified the substance, "_A cheap but elusive metal with incredible conducting abilities."_ Her cold eyes seemed to flicker in silent recognition.

As she looked at it more closely, Ichigo realized why it was familiar. She had seen something like it before, hadn't she? Her mind briefly traced back to the violent incident at the construction site of the train station, and the metallic dust that had littered the ground after Mizuki had burst in to her rescue, transformed.

"You're made of this," She concluded. wondering if it sounded as strange as it felt to say it.

Mizuki almost seemed to flinch. As if the details of her own structure had gone unnoticed by her, even just for a moment.

"Yes," was her sturdy reply, "Kinet is an otherwise useless metal, but it was found to be exceptionally suited for the transfer of - thoughts," That word seemed wholly improper, and she backtracked accordingly, "-_ messages _in the place of mammalian nerves."

Ichigo's eyebrows lifted. "Metal? Shouldn't it shatter when you transform-"

She simply shook her head in response, looking back to the pile of dull metallic dust resting in her cold palm, "Kinet was injected into my programming as a 'safe' metal. My transformation complex sends intense and active heat currents through all other metals, but is designed specifically to bypass Kinet."

"It would be fatal to you, otherwise," Zakuro reasoned, eyeing the machine almost cautiously, "Wouldn't it?"

The silence answered the affirmative.

"This is from Mizuki-oneechan then, na no da?"

"But you never transformed here," Ichigo murmured before Mizuki had a chance to point this out.

"The 'safe' metal setting causes a small amount to be repelled from the skin as opposed to melting or shattering," Gently, Mizuki stroked the rough dust, "But _this_ is too unrefined. My creators struggled to get legal access to such a large quantity, but-"

Lettuce's eyes widened as it struck her. "So, this metal must be from..."

Mizuki nodded, just slightly. Enough to confirm the silent suspicions of everyone else in the room.

Ichigo found herself staring at the metal, and it's dull, unenthused glimmer - and somehow, some way, from the pit of her stomach, she felt a warmth bubble up from her chilled toes all the way up to her troubled eyes. Hope, albeit faintly, quivered at her tangled insides.

"This is the clue SQUAD left us," Mizuki said, closing her fist around the vital puzzle piece.

* * *

Dark, cold, looming, unwelcoming - the night sky flickered its gaze uneasily, beckoning the zipped-up-tight jacket clad group back to the safety, and warmth, of the cafe.

They wouldn't comply, though.

There were more important things to be following.

"Eck," And Mint, among the suspense and heavy air, could only pinch her nose in disdain, "_Please_ tell me the place you're taking us isn't nearly this... _shady_."

Mizuki only continued her silent and brisk walk up ahead, deadpan and focused.

"Maybe we should be walking faster - " Lettuce gently suggested, her words half muffled from chattering teeth. Zakuro just shook her head alongside, hands stuffed in her thin coat pockets.

"No matter how fast we go, they're the ones with the element of surprise. We're running headfirst into their trap, after all, and we need _time_ to consider it with a level head."

Ichigo, on the other hand, could not rid herself of that nagging sense of urgency. Every time she thought about where they were going, who would be waiting, who they would be holding captive,what could have or could _be_ happening to him and what (or lack of what) she could actually do about it - and that made the very core of her want to wretch.

It was slow and blind torture.

So she tried not to think about it. Where they were going. Any of that.

Not, of course, that anyone actually knew.

"Is it a building, na no da?" gandered Pudding, already attempting to turn a dead-serious endeavor into a game of I Spy.

Only the sound of their own footsteps answered. All of them had come to be accustomed to Mizuki's formidible ignoring skills by now, and carried on.

She hadn't told them _where_ they were going. Not even the general direction. In fact, all they really knew now was they, clueless and ill-prepared, were wandering through a slummy and sketchy part of the city, garbage cans and shifty eyed lurkers abound; in the face of Mizuki's forceful lead, the five girls behind remained in one moving clump. For safety, and self assurance.

Of course, despite the physical closeness, there was a gap that still needed to be bridged. Zakuro had pulled the _human_ girls of the team aside (whether or not they were truly out of Mizuki's earshot was questionable, considering her senses seemed superhuman anyways) and gave them a blatant warning - "She could just as well be a part of SQUAD, or whoever it is that took Ryou. Just don't take everything she says to heart. Machines can lie too."

Whether or not they all shared that same distrust and uneasiness was unclear.

But Ichigo knew, machine or no, Mizuki was the only ticket to Ryou. What they were going to do when the found him - and his kidnappers - she hadn't the faintest; all she could think at this point was _save him, save him_.

Meanwhile, Mint and Lettuce followed just behind her, talking in low and quiet voices. She couldn't hear much, only the odd snippet - "Five on two..." "...should have an advantage, right?..." "...ah, if they've hidden him..." "...have to split. Two for two. Not the best, but..."

All these terrifying scenarious began to stir in her mind, flying in one ear two-dimensional and out the other a disfigured exaggeration. Possible terrors flashed almost pointlessly past a distracted consciousness.

Clammy hands twitched, dry throat swallowed, impatient eyes whirled from the looming brick walls to the uneasy shadows to the stoic, wordless expression of a certain robot.

_"Tell me where he is," _Ichigo's desperate face said, bold print, size twenty-nine, firetruck red --

Mizuki barely cast a glance. A silent glance, at that. Answerless. Expressionless.

But the message was clear enough.

_You're an idiot._

Or,

_You're a idiot in love_.

Or, even better --

_You're a selfish, ditz-faced idiot in love, and if I tell you where they're keeping him, you're going to bolt and dive head first into the loaded cannon and get us all killed._

Well. She would have been right.

Ichigo should have been thankful, really, that someone with sense - arranged and programmed sense, but sense all the same - was looking out for her. In a way.

But her anxious heart would rather have ripped that hard drive down and crack the damn data right out of her.

What if he was hurt?

_Bleeding?_

Lost?

Suffering...

Dead.

It made her chest ache.

No, scratch that. It made her entire body ache, sunburnt and bruised and left to chap to death in an ice bath filled with vinegar and salt. Worse yet, she didn't know _what_ to expect. And Mizuki, with her arrogant silence and her confident onward stare and even stride, did.

Ichigo resented her for it.

Come to think of it - she resented her for a lot of things.

Beyond returning those same ill feelings.

Beyond that attitude, that haughty, know-it-all, clear as day superiority complex.

Beyond the rib-gnawing jealousy that some computer had somehow defied all science and structure and _logic_ and fallen for the same boy she was now in love with.

This was, in the end, all Mizuki's fault.

For existing. For being so powerful. For being born - built, created, _invented_, whatever!

Ichigo's eyes burned holes into Mizuki's back.

Zakuro was right. They'd all been right. This had gone beyond resentment.

She. _Hated. _Her.

_Mizuki was killing Ryou._

Thinking back, Ichigo wished that they'd left her. Left her to that SQUAD kid, left her to die or drown or be torn to shreds - it didn't matter. As long as she was gone.

This dark, bitter feeling crept through her bones, seized her, made her tremble from -- everything. Fear and adrenaline and anger and selfish refusal to lose something, someone, some piece of a life she'd left behind for her own self security.

It bit down, then. Cut her pure resolves in two.

Before she knew what was happening, Ichigo had her hands reaching outwards, stretched to push Mizuki down.

Only, of course, being her, she somehow ended up falling instead.

"Ung!" _Thumpclattaclash._

"Ichigo!" And there she was, thoughts hitched by a thread, sprawled over an empty garbage can, knocked on its side almost as pathetically as she'd been.

Collapsed. Overexerted. Exhausted.

"Are you alright? Can you stand?" Lettuce stood above her, a little blurry, reaching out to help.

Reaching out to _help_.

Ichigo squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid them of the tears that had pricked just a little at them. Maybe from pain, or surprise, or even just the sheer horror of the realization of what she'd almost done and no one else had seen.

How could she be so horrible?

"I'm.. okay," Ichigo's response was quick and jargled, and entirely unconvincing. As if she was seeking self-strength in this havock, she began to blindly wade her way through the junk and trash, trying desperately to find her own legs.

Things clattered, spilled, tumbled some more. But she kept at it, shaking limbs and all. Trying to get up. Up, and away from all that misplaced kindness, those too sincere words of "Let me help," "Just rest for a second!", "Don't push yourself--"

It was choking her.

All that _warmth_ when she was so bitter and cold..

It made her feel even more awful. And suddenly she just wanted them all to go away. So she snapped something she knew she would regret -

"Just stop it, I'm _fine_-!"

But before she could unleash a spur-of-the-moment defence, a nearby movement gave her a slight jolt, searing at her tense skin.

And it was Mizuki, in the end, who had ignored her protesting yelps and movements and grabbed her by the wrist, fully prepared to drag her to her feet.

Forcefully, but not without the slightest touch of gentle - one that was all too human.

"Stand up," was her almost curt command.

Instead of finding her balance, Ichigo found another reason to hate Mizuki. Callous caring. Could such a thing even exist? Mizuki's face, though - it stopped her thought train mid-track. It was so young, taut, false - but there was some unusual spark in those cold, mechanical eyes that made her want to scream and jerk away. She didn't. Couldn't.

Ichigo could only stand, dumbly, with Mizuki's vice grip still locked on her small, human wrist, watching as those iced-over eyes scanned Ichigo's frantic face with a clinical calmness.

No, it wasn't _calmness_, Ichigo realized. Somewhere, behind the predisposition to pure logic and white-walled views, her own worst fears were reflected in Mizuki's gaze.

"Shirogane-sama needs you," she said, in a voice so low Ichigo was surprised she'd heard anything at all. But as the iron-grip was removed and she felt her own hand drop, she realized how stupid she'd been.

Of course. _Of course_. That's what this whole thing was about.

All those sticky, unpleasant feelings and thoughts flaked away, leaving her to see exactly what she needed to -

Shirogane Ryou.

Someone she owed everything to.

Her job, her lifelong friendships, her _life_ -

Saving _his_ was literally the least she could do.

"Well, before another one of us finds something to trip on - " Mint's usual condescendence was somehow tinged with a dark seriousness - "Can we know where we are and where we're supposed to be going?"

Mizuki hesitated, and looked, of course, to the frazzled redhead. Questionably.

Sucking in a shady breath, Ichigo mustered her courage and stood a little taller.

Ichigo nodded. _I know_, was her silent reply.

Mizuki seemed to understand.

"There's a black-market esque system in this area. Prominently for drugs and other such illegal items." That data-retrieval expression wound up on her again, as she no doubt whirred through all the documentation in her system.

"Distributors of these items are often found here. My creators encountered several difficulties with these goods being circulated, namely - "

"Kinet," Zakuro finished, able to put two and two together.

A nod. "There are several accounts of large quantities being confiscated from this area. Since Kinet is not illegal, there's little that can be done to prevent 'dealings' = te main course of action has been using this area's activities to track Mock Labs."

Obtaining illegal material - that's what this place was for? In spite of her temporary brave front, Ichigo shuddered. The shadows seems a lot more menacing when thoughts of what could be attached to them surfaced.

"How close are we?" Lettuce asked, the same nervous edge in her quiet voice.

Mizuki glanced over her shoulder. "Quite," But suddenly she stiffened, falling quiet as if she'd picked up on a presence. "The most frequent deal location is one of these alleys."

The clue. Kinet. It had lead her here.

"Be on guard," was her final warning to them as she turned toward the ominous shadows,

"They're waiting."

* * *

_saving data... closing applications... system shut down. _


End file.
